Abduction of A Princess
by Sheiado
Summary: AU FIC.(BriseisAchilles). The Trojan war was prevented and peace with Sparta was made. What happens when Priam's niece is abducted and forced into slavery?
1. Full Notes and Disclaimer

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**Note, Summary, and Disclaimer**: Abduction of A Princess

**Note**: This is an AU fic. Paris did not go to Sparta with Hector and so, Troy is now allies to both Sparta and Mycenae. Helen is still with Menelaus. This is, of course, a Briseis and Achilles fic. If you're wishing for the Homeric view and are going to do nothing but criticize then don't bother reading because this fic is both different from the movie as well as the Illiad. I did, however, decide to kinda keep the same character personalities as the movie. Patroclus and Achilles are cousins in this fic also (like the movie), not lovers as they were in Homer's story. 

**Full Summary**: Priam brings Briseis and Hector with him to the wedding celebration of Agamemnon's eldest daughter (his intentions are to find eligible suitors for his niece). But what happens when she is abducted from Mycenae and forced into slavery? 

**Disclaimer**: The main characters of the story are not mine, but are being borrowed for this fic... and... well, Homer's dead anyway so I don't think he's going to come back from the dead and sue little ol me. LOL.


	2. Prologue: Spirit of An Amazon

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**Abduction of A Princess**   
By Sheiado 

**Prologue**: Spirit of An Amazon 

Everyone around her was merry and boastful, but Briseis was all but one who found misery within their company. She watched, with a feeling of dread crawling within the pit of her stomach, as the new prince of Mycenae and Ianthe, Agamemnon's eldest daughter, toasted with those that congratulated them on their official marriage and first night as husband and wife. It was a celebration that attracted all kings and all nations. And because of this, her uncle Priam brought her and his eldest son, Hector, with him. 

Priam wished to bring her further out into society, taking immediate notice to her blossoming into womanhood, and so brought her with him to attract more suitors. Peace with Sparta and King Menelaus had thus far lasted two winters and so, as allies, the royal family of Troy was invited to the celebration. Briseis found herself in utter misery, for though she knew her uncle meant well, she detested royal men; Princes and Kings, with the exception of her own family, were filled with greed and were nothing but pompous asses seeking power. Some even murdered their own fathers to get to the position they were presently at. Common vile acts such as those turned Briseis away from marriage to men who were future heirs to their throne, they'd even more than likely kill their own wives to gain an accepted lover on the throne. 

She sat rigid and in silence, avoiding anyone and everyone she could. She wanted as less suitors as she could get, unlike Priam who was speaking to everyone. She saw her opening of escape near the end of the feast and slipped out unnoticed to everyone, even her own cousin and uncle. Briseis, throughout the night, felt herself near to suffocating and walked upon one of the palace's outside balconies. Finally! A place where she could _think_ and _breath_! 

Her eyes stared up at the beautiful moon, admiring its glimmering surface and rays that sparkled softly from it. The stars twinkled shyly from the sky at her, its light small and incomparable to the orb glowing madly above her. All of it was beautiful and Briseis sighed at how peaceful and calming the night air was. 

"My Lady-" 

The unfamiliar voice startled her from her reverie and Briseis turned quickly around with a sharp gasp of surprise. 

The man in front of her, a noble as it looked like, appeared apologetic at having disrupted her and he quickly spoke, "I am sorry if I have frightened you." 

Briseis nodded and returned his light smile. "No, My Lord, just startled me is all." 

"Forgive me for I saw you leave alone-" 

"And you believe it not proper for a Lady to go out unescorted?" Briseis finished, amused. The man sounded like Hector. "I'm sure then that my cousin will give you his thanks when he meets you, for he is much of the same opinion." 

The man was even near the same in age as Hector by appearance; He had a scruffy beard, wisdom-filled eyes that shined far beyond his years, and a face in the beginning stages of aging. He smiled at her. "You spoke my very thoughts, My Lady." 

"And who, may I ask, is my savior this night?" 

He smiled at her, finding a woman of her character both odd and amusing. "King Odysseus of Ithaca, My Lady. And the damsel, My Lady's name?" 

Briseis quirked an amused eyebrow at the king. "Princess Briseis of Lyrnessos and niece to King Priam of Troy." 

"Ah," Odysseus spoke, realization of the names hitting him, "the cousin you then speak of would be Prince Hector, yes?" 

"The very one," Briseis confirmed. 

Odysseus studied her for a quiet moment. She was a very beautiful woman, even if she didn't think herself as such. He had heard quite a number of men speak of a "Princess Briseis" this night and the talk of her, he had to admit, piqued his curiosity. He knew the reasons from Priam bringing along his favored niece to the celebration and it wasn't an uncommon tradition. But he had wondered if the rumors of this beauty were indeed true. If so, suitors for her would prove most difficult to attain, for no one would want a wife that was often compared to the spirit of an Amazon. And for those seeking to break said spirit would most certainly be denied her hand by King Priam and his eldest son. Both were said to be very protective of the woman and most snotty royals feared Hector's wrath. 

"So, My Lord Odysseus, knowing your of good standing with the ladies, do you follow unaccompanied women often?" 

By Gods what a bold and vibrant spirit she possessed indeed! 

"Not often, only when it is necessary, Princess. It is a courtesy that I should hope an honest man should give my wife in my absence for I care of her safety and protection." 

Briseis smiled. A very romantic notion. But before she could speak, a new voice interrupted her. "Well spoken, King Odyssesus." 

_Hector!_

Briseis turned to see the familiar man, his face set in a deep frown. His utter disappointment in her was blatantly obvious as he set his gaze politely on the King of Ithaca. "Thank you, My Lord, for seeing to my cousin. Few men would have taken such concern toward her safety." 

"It is my pleasure, Prince Hector, for this young lady should be watched over most carefully. She is surely one of your city's most finest treasures," Odysseus complimented kindly. "I bid you good night, Lady Briseis, for now that your cousin is here you no longer have need of me. It was a pleasure meeting you." 

Odysseus kissed her hand gently and nodded politely to Hector before taking his leave. 

After he was gone and out of sight, Hector frowned at her and his broad shoulders tensed up as he began, "Briseis! Cousin, don't you ever do that to me or your uncle again," he breathed fiercely, trying his best not to yell and rage at her for her stupidity as he wished to do. "You had us both worried sick and even Agamemnon's palace is not safe to wander around in. You're lucky that King Odysseus sought to give you his protection!" 

"Would you stop scolding me as if I were a child, Hector," Briseis snapped. She rarely fought or got angry at Hector but now was one of those rare moments. "If I worried you and uncle then I am sorry but I needed some air and some space for myself to think! It was not my idea nor my wish to come here. I do not want to be betrothed to a man that would use me to his own ends. I'd rather become a virgin priestess before marrying one of those power-loving sacks of swine!" 

"Do not argue with me, Briseis, for if marriage is called for by my father then you will do your duty!" Hector returned curtly, his voice laced with anger. "Speak out no further against me, cousin, and go to your chambers." 

Briseis' eyes became as angered and full of rage as Hector's own. "If you wish such torment for me, cousin, then you should have informed me before!" 

"Someone needs to curl your outlandish and willful nature for it is a danger to you, Briseis!" 

"I wonder how Andromanche would feel about your biased opinion," Briseis shot back dryly. 

Hector's eyes narrowed to slits. "Leave my wife out of this argument." 

"I thought you, dear cousin, were different from them! Obviously I was wrong to think so highly of you!" 

That comment did it, but Briseis was too angered and too full of pride to take those hate-filled words back. Hector said nothing in response. 

"Go to your chambers, Briseis, and speak no further," Hector growled. He wouldn't follow her. He couldn't follow her because he was too busy trying to pull back the urge he had to throttle her. When he did argue with Briseis on rare occasion, they were always heated arguments. Not common bickering like he had with Paris or Andromanche. 

Briseis narrowed her eyes, seething quietly. _Men!_ "Very well, My Lord, for you can go to Hades for all I care," she hissed coldly. "Good night". 

Briseis seethed throughout the whole journey toward her chambers, her fists curled to the point where her sharp nails bit harshly into the flesh of her palms. She didn't notice the pain. All she felt was her blood boiling in rage. But also, her attention failed to notice the eyes that tracked her calculatingly nor the soft footsteps that followed her trail until it was too late... 

A large hand clamped itself onto her mouth and another snaked around her stomach, restraining her tightly to their body and preventing a struggle. Briseis tried to scream but it was muffled, muted by their clammy fingers. She tried to kick and squirm next but the hold only tightened and a voice hissed fiercely in her ear, "Don't make a sound, My Lady, or you shall die." 

And then her world went black...

  
_More to come... so please read and review LoL!_


	3. Chapter One: Death of Briseis

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**Abduction of A Princess**

By: Sheiado 

**Author's Note**: Thank you everyone for the reviews for the prologue. Whew! I thought people weren't gonna really like it all that much, especially since it's another one of my wacky ideas lol. Well, this fic might get kinda R-rated later so I might be making a change (it won't be under PG-13 anymore so heed the warning! _Grin_). Anyway, please R&R and tell me what you think! Reviews get me more enthused... 

**Chapter One**: Death of Briseis 

How fast can one go from a life of royalty and prestige to a life of imprisonment? It can go in the blink of one's own eye. She had no knowledge of how long her time was away from Troy or Mycenae, the kingdom where her uncle sought to "bring her future to her". She had little knowledge of her present situation and even her memory recollection provided little to trust on. Her captors were faceless to her and she knew not about her whereabouts or location. She was away from home, away from everything she knew and the life that went with it. Briseis could not call for those she loved, for all she had was bare-stripped walls, stone cold floors, and a room without windows. The last image burned into her mind was a blur, the wall of Agamemnon's palace, and then nothing. 

She had awakened from unconsciousness to the cold company of stone, from floor to wall, in a room of darkness and shadows. Not even Apollo's light could give her strength or a tiniest fraction of hope. Darkness and despair lingered in the room that held her prisoner. 

_Prisoner_, she thought bitterly, for that was what she'd always be. Unhappiness and misery seemed to follow her almost everywhere. Her parents had died when she was barely three years of age, her uncle sheltered her and let her do not what she'd wish, duty was placed instead of happiness in terms of marriage, and now she was being abducted by men and kept in a place of hollowness and bone-chilling stone. 

She sat numbly with her chin drawn up to her knees, her eyes staring blankly at the room's only door, the only barrier blocking her escape. She sat there for what seemed like hours, half torn between screaming for help or cursing those that had trapped her here. Waiting patiently upon the floor grew tiresome and so, Briseis' impatience surfaced as she stood before the bolted metal door. She wringed her torn and dirtied skirts in her hands as she stared, her decision now made. Her lips thinned as she glared and her fists pounded and her feet kicked profusely upon the surface of her cell barrier. 

She didn't know for how long she had been pounding and kicking, for her rage and despair clouded her sanity and had taken over her body. Her captors came all too soon, for the door unbolted and two tall, brawny men entered with haste, their thick hands immediately grabbing ahold of her. 

Briseis cried out as each man nearly crushed her wrist in a death lock, not caring when her face twisted and grimaced in pain. "I demand that you release me at once!" Briseis rasped, albeit nervously, while attempting to ignore her fear, loathing, and pain in front of these men. They were both silent and ugly brutes. Neither one gave her a response nor any indication that they had heard her. Both wore an expression of stone. 

"Welcome, Princess," came a chilling sneer. Briseis struggled at the voice and she cried out as one of the men grasped and tugged harshly upon a fistful of her raven black curls. 

Her round, frightened eyes, the windows to the depths of her heart, peered toward the direction of her cell door. her gaze landed upon a dark and foreboding silhouette of a man, one that stood between her and her freedom. The presence was cold and the voice full of arrogance and cruelness. 

"Who are you," Briseis breathed, "And why have you brought me here?" 

"I am your Lord and Master here for a short time, my dear. That is all you really need to know of me. Your status of power has been diminished and so, you are neither allowed to give orders nor defy me. You are now a slave." 

Briseis seethed and vehemently spat, "My family will come for me!" 

The man chuckled icily in reply and continued, "You will not be able to escape, My Lady, and by the end of your time here, your family will not want you anymore. Your new status will bring them dishonor. You are no longer the Lady Briseis, but the slave Maenra. If you try to escape, you will be beaten and given nothing for nourishment until my word for it is given. If you do escape, then this shall prevent you from running to your kin..." 

His shadow moved carefully from the doorway to allow another entrance, a beast of a man, bearing a torchlight... and a- 

"No!" Briseis screamed, her brown eyes widening in fear. Her movements of struggle became more fierce as adrenaline seared throughout every limb of her body. Strong, bruising hands wrestled and subdued her retaliation and Briseis cried out again as the hand that gripped her hair pulled backward with a new force of viciousness. 

"Oh yes, dear one," her captor hissed. Briseis whimpered as he came forward, his hands suddenly grasping the material of her gown. He ripped the material from her body, exposing her neck, shoulders, and half of her breast. The man at his side, holding the hot poker and leering at her appreciatively, stepped forward. 

"Behind her shoulder," the man ordered coldly, stepping aside. 

The poker's radiating heat licked the bare flesh of her shoulder and Briseis tensed in anticipation of the pain that would soon come. 

And come, it did. 

She screamed as she never had before as the poker, the brand of a slave, seared painfully into her skin. Even as it was released from body contact, she could still smell her own flesh burn and hear it sizzle in objection from the abuse. Hot, fat tears poured heavily down her cheeks, betraying her will to remain emotionless and unyielding to their torments. Her body slumped as her consciousness began to slip from pain and exhaustion. 

"Your life begins, Maenra. You will be clothed and fed here. And then you will be auctioned off to whomever I wish. princesses turned into slaves fetch a wonderful and very fruitful price, especially ones so innocent such as yourself." 

Her vision went from tearful and blurred, to faint and finally, into nothing but blackness. She allowed the darkness to take her into its embrace and there, for a short time, she found peace. 

_More to come! So please read and review!_


	4. Chapter Two: The Slave Maenra

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**Abduction of a Princess**

By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Wow! Thank you to all my reviewers 'cause you definitely got me more enthused about writing this LoL! I'm trying to sort out some ideas (I got quite a few too) for future chapters but keep the reviews coming! 

**Chapter Note**: This chapter is more about what her time was like while kept captive in the slave market and you are being introduced to a new character that will have great importance later on in the story (_muhahahaha_!). 

**Chapter Two**: The Slave Maenra   
  
She was to be auctioned off within the next month, Briseis, now the slave Maenra, had discovered. She had been trapped in this slave market prison for more than 20 days and every one of those 20 days had been both long, tedious, and torturous toward her mental state. She went though the same routine daily, ate the gruel provided to her three times a day, slept in her cell, and then went to the guarded bathing room at night. The bathing room, she had to admit, was the most welcomed part of the evening. The escorted trip gave her the chance to socialize with the other female prisoners and learn more about those that kept her captive. 

The other women prisoners were actually alot like herself, princesses of far and neighboring kingdoms and abducted for the reason of their beauty and their chastity while others were daughters of wealthy merchants or slaves by origin. Either way, all were treated equally by the warden. Inside the bathing room, however, some princesses still had their snobbish determinations to maintain their previous stations and boss those of 'others' around. Briseis kept her distance from all the gossips that were scattered in small groups amongst everyone, not all that interested in what they really had to say about her, others, or conflicting kingdoms. They had naught but much else to speak of and most of their talks all but left Briseis angry and resentful anyway. They relished in other people's misery because they would then have something solid to talk about amongst themselves. Even the thought of it all was appalling and absolutely disgusting. 

Night had fallen more quickly than the last day, Briseis noticed, for the familiar, beastly guards came to escort her out with haste. They walked with her in silence throughout the cell ward and into the main hall, standing outside the double doors with watchful eyes as Briseis walked forward and alone into the bathing room. The bath quarters were completely occupied at the late hour as it usually was and Briseis ignored the shushed voices and curious stares that she received from the other women. They knew she was going to be among the first to be auctioned off soon. And thus, the news of the event gained her alot of unwanted attention. 

Slipping her sandals silently off her bare feet, Briseis went to the far side of the bathing room where she could be alone for awhile. The eyes that bore onto her back upon her entrance lost interest and soon strayed elsewhere. Utterly relieved, Briseis began to slip out of her clothes. Her plight body sank easily into the over-sized tub and the rising steam from the water's clear surface teased and smacked with slow ease along her soft skin. Sighing at the pleasantness, Briseis allowed her head to loll gently back against the side panel, her eyes closing as she let herself relax for once. 

"You know," a familiar voice chided gently, "If you keep doing that one of these days you're going to fall asleep, sink to the bottom, and drown." 

Briseis' lips curved into a ghost of a smile. "Good evening to you too, Ctimene," she greeted, not moving or even blinking from her comfortable position. "Perishing in a large pool of warm water is the least of my worries." 

The comment made the other woman snicker and crack a smile as she stepped into the pool next to her. "Still looking on the bright side of life, I see," she noted dryly. 

"MmmHmm." 

"Maenra, is what everyone speaks of truth?" 

Briseis opened her deep brown eyes and stared at her new friend intently. "yes," she answered, her eyes reflecting sadness as she saw the disappointment written on the other woman's face. "The reasons why, I do not know of." 

Ctimene, another princess much like herself, gazed at her with a somber expression. The younger woman was no older than 21, younger in age than Briseis herself, with striking and mature features that were unusual for a young woman of her years. Her skin was pale and almost flawless and she had the most beautiful hair! Her locks were the rich color of auburn, long and straight, a feature rare among the female population. Her eyes were just as stunning as her hair, a rich shade of green that matched the tones of rippling hills and meadows. 

Some people found her looks to be an oddity, but Briseis thought she was beautiful. Having the ability to stick out amongst crowds of women had a very positive outcome for her, as was being snubbed by over-zealous princesses. It had given her more personality and open-mindedness. 

"I know why," she replied quietly, her eyes turning stormy. 

Briseis just stared at her, her silence bading the girl to go on. 

"You are among the first to go because you are different among their collection of princesses," she answered sincerely. "You are the most beautiful and are not only smart but also less childish as the others here. Not many slave owners would want to buy a slave, princess born, that behaves like a brat and throws fits of hysterics. They know you are calmer and more intellectual, therefore you can gain them a fortune." 

"I should feel flattered but considering the circumstances, however, I do not. I only feel dread." 

Ctimene smiled sadly at her. "As do I. I won't ever see you again and my hair is so odd in these parts that I'm afraid I will remain here until my time of youth is done." 

"Have faith. You will get out just as I will," Briseis assured, "and then you will escape and return to your home." 

Ctimene shook her head sadly. "My homeland is too far and unknown, I wouldn't even know where to escape _to_. And I'm afraid that, unlike your kind family, mine would turn me away. They would see the brand and believe me to be tainted. I would wish rather to be dead than to be casted out by my own people." 

She smiled suddenly, a thought coming to her. "I will go to Troy and search for you if a means of escape suddenly presents itself. Perhaps one day, I will meet you there." 

"I hope so," Briseis spoke softly, "maybe I will..." 

"Your family seems warm and accepting, they will not turn you away as mine would," Ctimene replied, soothing the other woman's worries, "And your city sounds so wonderful! I have no doubts that living there would seem almost like a dream." 

A smile graced Briseis' lips as she thought about it, "Yes, it is... you are a good friend, Ctimene, I wish I had met you under better circumstances." 

"And I as well," She agreed, "I hope to see you again after our time here." 

Briseis nodded. "Is it true that it is within three weeks?" 

"Aye. He auctions off a few royalty at a time. It makes things look less suspicious to everyone and he makes more money." 

"By Apollo, one of these days that man will pay dearly for his crimes," Briseis cursed under her breath. 

Ctimene's eyes widened out of fear and her eyes scanned to check the room. "Maenra, you should not say such things," she whispered. 

"I know you wish for it just the same as I do and it _will_ happen. But, never mind that now," Briseis replied warily, her somber mood suddenly shifting. "Can you help me with my hair?" 

_More to come! Please read and review!_


	5. Chapter Three: Auction Into Slavery

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**Abduction of A Princess**

By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: OOOOooooWEEEE! Over 40 reviews! I'm excited LoL! To answer the question, YES Achilles will be in this fic! But I gotta get through some stuff before they meet. Briseis will experience a life as a slave (which isn't exactly running pleasantly at the moment) and then we will get to the good stuff! I mean, I can't just have my characters running into each other's arms without a good story to go in between _grin_. Thanks for the reviews everyone! _More, more, more_! 

**Chapter Three**: Auction Into Slavery 

Fingers gripped her arms with bruising force as she was led through the narrow, long path and thick stone walls of the prison hall. Her light footsteps echoed in cadence with the boisterous clinking of chains and the loud bellows far beyond her range of sight to see. The dreariness of the halls matched her somber mood, for today was the day that Briseis was to be given to a new master. Terror consumed her but there was no point in whining and transcending into a "fit of hysterics". She was a proud Trojan Princess and no amount of fear would make her degrade or submit herself to such a manner. 

Her hands shook out of nervous habit and scraped unwilling against the cold and rusted metal locked around her feeble wrists. Whatever her anxious habits be, Briseis hid them carefully. She would crumble before no one, she had foresworn to herself the night before. And she would try her damnedest to uphold that oath given. To break it would mean that she had failed herself and those kin to her. She would not dishonor them nor would she dishonor herself. 

Despite the feelings of uneasiness and terror, Briseis kept her features and body carefully composed as she allowed herself to be escorted by her two prison guards of nearly a month. They were venturing into another part of the prison that she had never seen nor ever been to before. The path of the new hallway was just as long, without decorations or warmth, for it was made only of bare stone. The bellows got louder as they approached nearer and the glow of torch lights caught her eye. Two double doors, alike to the bath quarters, were at the end of the hall and it was adorned with lights, flowers, and had a special guard posted at its front. 

The auction had already commenced and Briseis now realized that she was to be the last of the women auctioned off for the "special event". Before her grand entrance into the hall, Briseis had to be specially prepared for the occasion. Her hair was thoroughly washed and styled, half pinned in loose locks above her head to cascade in ringlets down her slender back, a new robe of fine burgundy adorned and hugged her supple form, and new sandals were replaced with her old battered ones upon her feet. 

_I might as well be cattle_, Brisies thought glumly, her body moving of its own accord toward the dining area as if she no longer had control over it. She wished all of this was naught but a dream, a mere nightmare. But it never would be such, for it was as real as her life had been in Troy. 

_Gods help me_, she pleaded, her eyes falling onto the eyes and faces that bore onto her as she continued forward. There were gazes of lust, appreciation, and envy and all of it made her feel disgusted. 

She stopped at the front, her brown eyes falling upon the man that led the auction. He was burly and short for a man, but taller than Briseis herself and his eyes gazed at her appreciatively. "And now, dear guests, the last to be bought for the evening. Here is a treasure from far lands and one of our rarest beauties! Who will be willing to pay a large sum for what I offer here?" 

Briseis stood in awkward silence and kept her fists balled beneath her robes. He had the same voice as the man that had branded her upon the first day of her arrival. He was a face to be remembered, for if she ever crossed paths with him once more, she had every intention of sending him back to Hades. He had a build that was rare and a hardened face that gave him a look of no older than twenty-five years. He was young, deceitful, and very ambitious. Even his stance as he spoke gave such characteristics away. 

Briseis seethed with hatred toward him. He was the one who stole her from her home and family. The eyes that peered at her with lustful scrutiny made her intensely uncomfortable and so, she kept her gaze elsewhere. Her fate was no longer hers to control anymore. _For now_, she told herself quietly… 

She was so lost in thoughts of home, family, vengeance, and escape that she scarcely paid attention to the bidding. The other girls had been sold off and now it was her turn. Would watching the exchange change the possibility of a fruitful outcome for her? No, it wouldn't and Briseis just stared past the crowd toward the tapestries blanketing the stone walls. Her life was not her own anymore. 

"Sold!" Boomed the voice at her side, "to the Lord Creceden! Congratulations, my Lord, for a beautiful and pure maiden she is and a treasure to behold for any king!" 

She had heard the words that she dreaded to hear and Briseis let her eyes wander hesitantly toward the voice that answered, "A king indeed and it is a treasure that I gladly accept!" 

The man was young, with crisp, tanned skin and dark, unruly hair. He leered at her for moments at a time, as if he were a wolf eyeing up its prey. His eyes smiled darkly at her and his lips twisted slyly. Briseis shivered, in fear or disgust she did not know. The man was evil. And all she wanted to do was run. 

_More to come! Please read and review!_

**Note**: Sorry for such a short chapter but I wanted to end it here and I'll try to make the next one even longer to make up for it.


	6. Chapter Four: Despairing

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**Abduction of A Princess**

  
By: Sheiado 

**Author's Note**: Thank you to all my reviewers 'cause I probably would've stopped writing this if I didn't get as much feedback and encouragement as I get from you guys! LOL. I hope this is long enough. Well, if not you guys got a choice between **1)** _Quicker and Shorter chapter_ or **2)** _Longer to post and Lengthy chapter. _That'd mean you'll probably be waiting an extra week for a new chapter (I somehow don't think ppl would want that...). And I know I'm more eager to post asap... but that's just little 'ol me speakin'... 

**Chapter Four**: Despairing 

The ways of men, their ambitions and acts of societal corruption, were truly becoming a very frightening and grotesque reality. Briseis despised greed, corruption, and enslavement. She despised it because it did naught but ruin innocent lives. Enslavement was a practice, a tradition commonly used as a way of life among human beings of varying lands. But this practice and its purpose of dominance deserved to be brought upon no one. It was a very solitary lifestyle. A life lived trapped inside a lonesome cage. 

The cage still had her trapped and locked inside of it like a captured bird but this time, there was a hungry cat prodding it and waiting oustside of its enclosed territory with calculating viciousness. Briseis saw herself as the bird and her new master, Lord Creceden, as the cat. She knew she would meet him soon and it provoked nothing but fear and dread insde of her. _By Apollo, she needed help!_

She prayed to the god that protected her homeland and family, the god that she embodied as being sympathetic and protective of his mortal followers. She needed help and so sought for divine protection when physical ones were naught to spare. Hector could not help nor soothe her fears as he once did when they were but young children. She was alone. Alone and regretful that she had not taken back her spite and prideful words from her cousin. She was thinking only of unhappiness and marriage and so misery deemed her worthy, for it came down upon her swiftly ten fold. She wished only to return to her family and become Briseis of Troy once again... but wishing for such things had never really gotten her anywhere before. 

Lying alone in her cot within her new master's kingdom, Briseis cried herself to sleep. Her thoughts rarely took toward a tragic direction but she felt suffocated, utterly smothered, as she realized how trapped she had finally allowed herself to become. She would not remain a maiden for long in this enviornment, she was branded and therefore useless to her own family. She would be ashamed for the eyes of Trojans would follow her with mockery and laughter and not even her own god, Apollo, would have use for her. Living in Troy would never be the same again. She would live a life under the intense, disdainful, and uncomfortable scrutiny of others. Having experienced the burden of enslavement would prevent her from living her life to the fullest. She would not marry, have children, gain her own lands, or even have the option of becoming a priestess, all of which most members of royalty often took for granted. 

Salty tears dried into a slow, sticky stream down the slopes of her soft cheeks and as fatigue washed away the dreariness from within her heart, Briseis, found herself in the midst of another world.... 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() 

In a swamp, dark and murky, was where she stood. She was small, about five years of age, but her appearance held similarities which expanded to her adult years. Her dark curls hung loosely around her, tumbling to her back, and clung to her damp cherub-shaped cheeks. Her full lips twisted into a tight frown as her large eyes, soft as a doe's, fell to her feet. 

She was trapped, not knowing how to swim, and waist length in deep, polluted waters. The situation became terrifying all too soon and Briseis' eyes widened as she felt the wet, mushy ground begin to waste away from beneath her feet. She cried out in panic as her body began to sink, her arms flailing and her fingers clawing. She could find nothing to hold onto! 

Her head was barely above water as she screamed for the last time and a burning sensation soon replaced the air in her lungs as water slowly began to suffocate her. Darkness settled and extinguished her light, diminishing breath and all vision. Everything became stillness and silence and Briseis struggled no more. In her moments end, believing death had finally come for her, she scarcely felt the hands that grasped and pulled her to safety.

Her back laid on land, soft and pleasantly mushy, that smelled distinctly like sea salt and fish. Light penetrated through the back lids of her eyes and as she opened them, she caught the most incredible shade of blue.

The sun was blocked by a golden head and orbs of pure glistening sapphire. They were beautiful eyes, so rare, full of life, and alluring in a way that Briseis could not understand nor explain. he stared at her curiously for the longest time until Briseis asked, "Who are you?"

The boy frowned at the question and then his eyes gave a hard stare as she sat up, noticing that she was sitting on a beach. "I saved you. You should be telling me who _you_ are."

Briseis was as young as the golden boy at her side. How did a boy so young in appearance manage to drag her body out of the water and swim to safety? Not noticing the boy's hostility and cold stare, she answered, "I am Briseis and I am lost."

"Yes you are," the boy answered knowingly. He was old for his years. "For now. Soon you will no longer be."

"What do you mean?"

"The sea takes and the sea gives. Takes lives, it will do but it will also give life. It will direct you, fear not, lost one."

"Are you a God?" Briseis found herself asking. Her eyes, seemingly far too big for her round face, stared up at him with barely hidden curiousity. A deity can take any form that they choose to reveal themselves with to a mortal, no matter what age and appearance of innocence. The boy felt familiar to her and his presence was almost comforting. Surely, only a god would choose such a golden and alluring apparition?

"No. I am apart of you, your future and, to an extent, your past. I am what you know naught of yet. And as to my name, I've come by many with you. Lives before this life. This is a message sent to you for guidance by your own inner self..."

"This dream...?"

"Dreams are sent by mortals themselves and naught by the Gods that they pray to. You already know that though, My Lady." The boy suddenly smiled cryptically. His eyes and the way they bore into her, like he knew her own soul, made her shift uneasily upon the rough, scorching sand. "You know more than you really think you do."

The rippling, roaring waves of the sea suddenly intensified, its sound reverberating so loud around her that she could barely hear anything more of what the boy was saying. The sky, what used to be a matching shade of the boy's bright eyes, suddenly turned stormy and dreary. _"It won't get any easier, but going forward all depends on you."_

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She was awakened by Lalianes, her bunk mate and fellow house servant, at the crack of dawn. Today was to be her first working day as a worker in the gardens and so, she was to be shown around the workers' quarter of the palace. Lalianes was a quiet girl, shy but not timid, and the trait sometimes had weak defenses when one began to start friendly conversation with her. She seemed the type to speak only when spoken to. She was as young as Briseis herself was with long, chesnut hair, gray eyes, and tanned skin baked from Apollo's scorching sun. Her appearance reminded Briseis of Andromanche, only not quite possessing the famous beauty of the trojan princess.

They spent an hour walking through the many quarters and gardens that they were to work in. To make sure that Briseis didn't get completely lost, Lalianes even showed her ways through the kitchens, bathing rooms, and worker sleeping areas. The tour and beginning familiarity gave Briseis more confidence... at least to go only a little ways outside of her room. She still knew very little and would have need to learn the whole palace within time.

What most would find odd, Briseis understood by reasoning and experince. Lalianes purposely avoided the main hall. She did it not out of courteousy, but out of fear. She seemed to have caught on to the watchful gazes that Briseis gave her and so she turned, whispering quietly, "Avoid the main hall. It is best that way. The less attention gained by the Lord of the house here, the better. After he buys slaves, he soon forgets about them. If he sees you, being beautiful and bought by him, he will remember and summon for you. You will only have to cross the main hall if summoned... and that happens only nightly."

"Nightly? How do you know?"

The girl gazed at her, her eyes stormy, full of raw vulnerability and pain. "It has happened only once to me and I wish naught for it again. I'd sooner die."

"I'm sorry," Briseis whispered, her heart going out to the woman, "I did not quite understand. I didn't mean to bring up something so painful for you."

"It is painful," Lalianes agreed, "but no one dared to tell me anything when I came here. I believe it to be wrong for no one to warn others of such a cruel man. No one deserves the treatment he gives. I sometimes fear working in the gardens but I try to hide whatever beauty given to me by the gods well. He won't find hideousness attractive."

Briseis nodded.

"You are so far one of the prettiest girls here," Lalianes complimented sadly, "You would do well to try and hide it."

"I shall take the advice," Briseis agreed, "Thank you."

"Tis nothing but a warning of precaution, My Lady Briseis."

_Maen-Briseis!_ Her eyes snapped to her in astonishment at the utterance of her birth name. Eyes wide, she asked, "How do you know who I am?"

The girl smiled sadly, an almost secret smile. "A woman that works in the kitchens, Mylana, saw you upon the night of your arrival here. Do not fret for she only told me and no one else. She is very trustworthy and almost like a mother to me. She used to be a trojan."

"She comes from Troy?"

"Aye. -And used to work as a maid in the house of your uncle, Lord Priam," She cut in shortly. "She said it was you because any child of Lady Nemertes and Lord Briseus she would recognize. She knew your mother well."

Briseis stopped walking and looked at her. "I wish to speak with her when I can, Lalianes, can you arrange it?"

Lalianes nodded. "I shall try.... but, in the meantime, I must show you what work awaits you in the gardens."

_More to come soon! Please read and review!_

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Well, I tried to get it long (_1800_ words).... anywaz, I hope you guys have enjoyed . Maybe one of these days I can manage out a _**really**_ long chapter! LOL. _grin . _The story is progressing but I'll get there eventually (well, I'm not going by the movie here! LoL). Anyway, keep the reviews comin'!


	7. Chapter Five: An Opportunity

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**Abduction Of A Princess**   
By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Well, guys this is a short chappie! Sorry! But the next will be long and far more interesting (_gives a secret and evil grin_). The next one, me thinks, is when things start picking up and getting more interesting so stay tuned! And as far as Lalianes happiness goes... er, she's going to go through some bad bumps _coughs_ before she gets happy. I plan on Ctimene popping up in later chapters but, it's all good... _I think!_

**Chapter Five**: An Opportunity 

Her days were often long and hard and she slaved in the gardens from the crack of dawn to the early hours of sundown. Sighing heavily, Briseis plopped soundlessly atop her scratchy makeshift cot, wondering in silence if life as a slave were indeed like this in her home city of Troy. If it were, Briseis had alot of newfound respect for those of lower station. Their work was most assuredly far from easy. 

She followed every bit of instruction given to her by Lalianes; she worked thoroughly, avoided the areas that the Lord of the household occupied, and made sure that she looked as less suspicious as possible when acquiring information regarding the Lord and palace. Both Mylana and Lalianes were the only ones knowledgeable to the fact that Briseis saught for freedom and escape and thus, kept silent about it. 

The servant Mylana was an aged woman, cook, overseer of slaves in kitchens, and a well-respected servant of Lord Creceden, despite her personal resentment toward the man. She had once been the personal cook of her mother, Queen Nemertes, before being given over to her Uncle, King Priam, in Troy. To her utter surprise and relief, Mylana treated Briseis with the respect and dignity that she would have given to any royal member of Troy. 

"When I first saw you," she had confided to Briseis one morning, "I thought that I was looking at the ghost of your mother." 

Mylana thought, and even outright told her multiple times, that Briseis did not belong there; she was royalty, of good people, and her family's kingdom was still standing, unconquered. It would be of Creceden's nature to purchase princess born slaves and keep their identity and whereabouts secret. Royalty only became slaves when their kingdom was conquered by another, it was a fact of life. Her kingdom still stood, her uncle still remained ruler, and Briseis was still princess to Troy. She had been reduced to slave when an underground market had abducted her from Mycenae and branded her. 

_"You do not belong here with us, My Lady. Your Uncle is a king and you are of royal trojan blood. A princess. I shall help you as best I can but I must warn you, it will be dangerous..."_

And so, Briseis asked questions and recieved answers. And with one who knew the palace and the Lord well. She didn't realize, however, that her chance would come shortly and it was a chance of unexpected circumstance... 

"Maenra," a distant voice beckoned from beyond her quarters. Briseis, alarmed, gazed up toward her door, her eyes falling upon the flush and exhausted form of Lalianes. 

She stopped to catch her breath, gasping as she spoke, "Your chance for escape may come soon, My Lady!" 

_Escape!_

Ignoring the protest of her aching muscles, Briseis shot up from her cot. "A chance! How?" she demanded, moving toward the woman anxiously. 

Lalianes gasped, "I heard from the servants of the hall! And even Mylana confirmed it! Lord Creceden, last winter, had indirectly insulted his king. The steward of the king is to arrive in the morn to demand payment of the insult which was promised by the Lord of the household to prevent conflict. He will demand the most beautiful of his women, gold, and fine tapestries!" 

When Briseis gave no indication of a reaction, she continued, "You will be given to King Agamemnon! His brother, King Menelaus, is an ally to your kingdom, is he not? Perhaps you will have your freedom yet for you have even a greater chance of being discovered! Mylana promises that she will ensure your passage onto the boat which will be shipped to the lands Agamemnon seeks to conquer. His steward was instructed to ship half the payment, the women included, to his location." 

The new information seemed to perturb her for Briseis plopped back down bonelessly onto her cot. Her face, once an expression of hope, contorted back into sadness and her shoulders visibly hunched in defeat. "I will remain living a life of enslavement, given to a new master, and there is no guarantee that I can convince Agamemenon of my station. He will see the brand and not even a king will take the word of a marked slave." 

Lalianes gazed sharply at Briseis, her features softening. Her heart went out to her and she now understand fully of the princess' complicated predicament. Kneeling before her in silence, she consoled gently, "My Lady, as a slave to this master, you will surely have a better chance of being noticed and found by King Priam. Here, you will have less of such an opportunity. I beg you to follow my advice, princess, for I will be with you upon this journey. Will you come with me, My Lady Briseis?" 

The young woman was right and Briseis knew it. It was the closest opportunity that she would ever have or ever come close to for an act of escape. Lord Creceden's act of stupidity and the Steward's visit was indeed a blessing in disguise, one surely given to her by the gods themselves. Perhaps Apollo really was looking out for her? 

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Upon the early dawn, both women awoke and were promptly escorted by Mylana to the bathing quarters. The old woman had kept her promise and rather than working in the gardens that day, they were bathed, perfumed, styled, and properly prepared for inspection by the steward of Mycenae. Briseis felt both dread and excitement as Mylana bid her good luck and farewell. She would be a slave still, a slave owned by "the king of kings", but would now have a better chance of freedom. Or so she thought. 

_Muhahahaha! More to come! Please read and review!_


	8. Chapter Six: Prizes To Warriors

**Abduction of A Princess**  
By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Well, it _is_ getting there! LoL. Achilles will be showing up rather soon and he'll have more of an appearance in the next coming chapters. Yes, I know what ya'll are thinkin' (_lmao_) FINALLY! Hey, I'm tryin' here and this will prolly be a rather long story! _grins_. Anywayz, thanks to all my reviewers 'cause you guys all ROCK! So, pwease R&R?!

**Chapter Six**: Prizes to Warriors

The course of one's own life can change, can realistically shift and take form into a new outcome. It can transcend by one's own simple action, decision, or by a mere utterance of a single given word. Her decision to follow Lalianes had been one, though filled with immense dread, of great importance. It was a choice that she knew would ultimately come to mold her future and her own life's fate. Terrible events were to transpire, her fear was to be tested by its limits, and Briseis now began to realize that her dream had indeed been right and strangely full of truth all along. Her life wouldn't get any easier, but how she went was to be guided by her hand and her hand alone.  
  
She found herself on a journey aboard ship for three weeks, almost a month, and was gradually becoming familiar with the continual rocking of the merchant vessel, "_Potnia_". Familiarity of movement began to soothe her, calm the storm of raging emotions within her heart, and Briseis soon found herself able to rest easy. The gentle swaying that had once made her stomach tie in sickly knots had now altered to a comforting and alluring lull. It had been so long since she had last been at sea alone, without her family. Now she was traveling with slaves, soon-to-be victims of a denominating and oppressive king.

Briseis had to admit, however, that they were kept in surprisingly fine conditions for a group of slave women. They were given food, water, clean clothes to wear, and a small adjoining washroom next to their sleeping quarters. Agamemnon had obviously wanted all women healthy and clean before breeching land, for the ship had come well prepared for their reception and he would not have treated them with such fair extravagance if he wished otherwise. They could have arrived to his new lands starved, beaten, and soiled.

The muffled news of land, shouts of excitement, and cluttering above deck gave Briseis a feeling   
of deep relief. _They would be off this tub soon!  
_  
Her small moment of joy was fleeting, for it was quickly diminished when the overseer instructed them to remain below deck, informing them rather curtly that they would not be allowed up until nightfall. "Until that time, ladies," he spat from above, his bald head outlined by the blazing sun as his greasy features leered from the top hatch. "Make yourselves presentable!"

Cries of panic, whimpers of utter terror, wailed almost instantly from the simpering women around her. Briseis glared hotly as she tried to stare down the disgusting, dog of a man, from her rigid position against the wall.  
  
His cocky smile disappeared as he noticed her penetrating stare. "You especially, Wench!" he sneered, "Aboard this ship you have caused me the most aggravation. I hope Agamemnon remedies that spitfire attitude! See then how long that spirit of yours lasts, girl!"  
  
The sturdy, wooden board was slammed fimly back into its place by the fuming man, replenishing the room back to a soft, dim glow of candlelight. The hollow clank of the dead bolt echoed harshly into her ears and the seething form of Briseis turned, her gaze now focused on the petrified, trembling young women at her side.   
  
Agamemnon's reputation of cruelty was well-known, even among slaves, and Briseis realized that out of all the terrified there, she would have to remain the strongest of them all. She had been bunked with eleven other women, including Lalianes, and all were very young and innocent. Most were new girls to Lord Creceden, untouched maidens taken into slavery alike to herself. From her estimation, she and Lalianes were among the oldest on board; the others were no older than twenty.  
  
Sighing heavily, Briseis announced in a voice of authority, "Alright, ladies, let us prepare and attend to ourselves. There isn't any sense standing about and fussing."  
  
Her and Lalianes, despite dread of their own individual fates, were placed to position of leaders. No one, not even her, would likely come out of this "adventure" unscathed; all would meet a similar demise outside ship, and Briseis felt it.  
  
_'Gods help us,'_she pleaded silently, her brown eyes softening at the tearful, frightened faces of those around her. _It would be a long night for them all…_  
  
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Night had fallen and Briseis found herself being led in a line procession of women, hands tied, toward an isolated area of a beach. At the front, on the lead, were both the overseer and the advisor of King Agamemnon, two men with both similar revolting characteristics. Their small group of twelve had been individually inspected, Briseis more so than the other women, for the overseer liked nothing more than to taunt and humiliate her. The man was utterly despicable.  
  
_"A shame for a pretty one like you,"_ he had snickered cruelly, his dirty hands touching and   
groping her lithe body in silent enjoyment. _"You'll be broken come time by dawn."_  
  
_Briseis gritted her teeth, holding back the urge she had to curse and kick at the bald-headed weasel of a man..._  
  
_"If the time ever comes for it,"_ Briseis threatened to him calmly, _"I swear you're going to wish you had never touched me."_  
  
The overseer cackled in reply. _"I don't think you are in a favorable position to make threats, Wench, especially to whom you will soon be given to."_  
  
Her mood of bravo had all too soon dissipated when they had passed through the army encampment, the worst area that was sauntered through with a feeling of deep unease and silent panic. Briseis had kept her eyes downcast throughout the journey, purposefully ignoring the cat calls, low whistles, and lecherous stares given by the soldiers of King Agamemnon. The silence was uncomfortable, almost torturous, and some girls would whimper and cower together in fear, whispering amongst themselves. As they preceded forward, kicking and marching through the cooling sands, Briseis began to feel her heart pound heavily in protest.   
  
_'Too many men,' _she thought to herself, shivering unconsciously, '_too few of us…'_  
  
Boisterous laughter echoed and wine poured, an obvious sign that a victory feast was being hosted in the midst of this soon-to-be conquered land. In truth, the more sounds she heard, the more suspicious and uneasy Briseis became. Her confidence was deeply dwindling.  
  
They turned to where small surrounding brushes of trees were located and it was then that Briseis caught glimpse of their intended destination. The torch lights gleamed and flickered out to her in the darkness, its serene glow circling enticingly around a large, bulky tent. It could not have been the king's, for beyond it a larger one stood. It was one that provided a place of meeting between the king, his warlords, and other high ranking officials beneath him. Her assumption could not have been wrong for the tent was far too active to provide as sleeping quarters for a high king of Greece.  
  
The quiet night and salty sea air provided small nourishment to her already rattled nerves, but it was not enough to sustain the hidden fear Briseis felt boiling underneath. She kept her face a blank mask, eyes cold and emotionless, as she refused to cower or tremble in the presence of neither any Greek nor any man. She would not give in to such a temptation, _never _in front of these men.  
  
Lalianes walked at her side, casting nervous glances of apprehension and visibly trembling at the trailing sound of drunken, blithe laughter. Briseis took pity on her. "Try and be strong," she whispered, "show no fear for they thrive on weakness."  
  
She tried to keep her voice as even and devoid of the overwhelming terror she began to feel quelling within the pit of her stomach. They were nearing closer. _'Closer to our own doom,'_/i she thought bitterly, '_Gods be merciful!'_  
  
She had to be brave and be calm and not just for the sake of retaining her dignity. She might very well have dire need of her own wits and resourcefulness.  
  
"I know. But I am so afraid, My Lady," Lilianes replied, almost inaudibly. Her hands visibly trembled and wringed at her skirts nervously.  
  
"As am I, Lalianes," Briseis admitted softly. Her eyes softened as she looked back at the woman, her gaze clashing with hers. Lalianes gave her a fleeting, brave smile in response.  
  
"Aye."  
  
Leers and whistles followed them in admiration as they lined up to enter the tent. Practically the whole Greek army watched them from outside, grinning madly and lustfully at their backs. The gazes of desire were also no doubt directed with a twinge of envy, envy towards the men who would gain such beauties in their bed.  
  
The tent was large and lavish with deep coated furs and animal pelts that hung along the tent walls, likely for comfort and shade from the scorching heat of the sun. Within the center Briseis saw two large, oak tables, surrounded by drunken men of high stature. Some appeared as kings, both young and old, while others were warlords, men at the ready with their swords sharpened and strapped to their backs. Agamemnon's most prized warriors.  
  
"Men, I have an announcement to make!"  
  
The high king was easily recognizable. She had caught glimpse of his appearance at the celebration of his daughter's wedding in Mycenae, even though she had never, in truth, met the man face to face before. And his arrogance as a ruler for certain gave his status away in mere moments. He stood before a large bronze chair, almost suitable for a throne, and gestured toward their small group of women.  
  
They were pushed to the front by the overseer and Briseis let her eyes wander back toward the familiar, foreboding presence of the high king as silence grew among the men. She felt her heart plummet as he announced coolly, "I have made a promise that I intend to keep-"  
  
He was surely a monster if he had plans to give the handful of them to a whole army of lustful men. They all fell silent, both from the king's booming voice and the notice of their female company. She frowned at the sudden gazes of desire that raked along her flesh, eyes that calculated her like a newfound prey. For a moment, Briseis almost faltered, nearly allowing her exterior to melt for she begged in silence for the aid of her brave cousin, _'Gods, this gets worse! Hector, where are you when I have need of you the most…?!'  
_  
"-Ten women to be given to my ten best warriors!"  
  
_Oh Gods…_  
  
The men cheered. "This victory," Agamemnon continued, "deserves a treat for all my best. I will make my decision and will call each in turn tonight to retrieve one of these most prized beauties!"

There were twelve of them, Briseis concluded somberly, and that meant that while ten would go to his warlords and soldiers, two would go to the king himself. The smile on his face as he made the announcement unnerved her and Briseis made a solemn vow in silence; she would never submit to becoming a bedmate to the filthy, swine of a king before her. She would rather suffer death than go through the humiliation and degradation that would no doubt have effect and befall her if she were to indeed return as her previous standing in Troy. There was no doubt in her mind that if she were able to return to Troy as their princess, the high King would be boastful, divulging in deflowering a daughter of Troy.

_'Death first,'_ she vowed.

_More to Come! Please read and review! _


	9. Chapter Seven: Wild Spirits

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**Abduction of a Princess**

By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Thank you to my reviewers! I was gonna write this out with Achilles in the chapter but I started writing a different scene. So... I'm posting two chapters at once! YAY! One to get by with what I want and what... _**everyone**_ has been anxiously awaiting for! _**Grin.**_ FINALLY! No? 

**Chapter Seven**: Wild Spirits 

She hated the ways of men and their methods of degrading women for their own benefit and pleasure. Thus far in her experiences outside of Troy and as a slave of low, societal station, she had witnessed nothing but cruelty, greed, barbarism, abuse in power, and all else which can be found in fault of the opposite gender. She knew better than to assume the worst was found only in the form of Grecian bloodline, for all men possessed it and Briseis feared not to admit it. Men brought out the worst primal qualities in human nature and it mattered not if they were civilized or barbaric in culture. 

She despised Greeks the more she got to observe and know them and as she was led to the next tent, Agamemnon's tent, Briseis began to feel herself tremble with overwhelming rage. She screamed inwardly at the unfairness and injustice of it all, at the pain and humiliation which would no doubt befall the eleven at her side, and at the broken hearts left behind from domination and enslavement. The reality of life was a harsh one and the evil of men made it even more so. 

Their small procession stood in silence, lined for inspection by the high king and his weasel of an advisor. The overseer watched from the entrance, his eyes smiling as Briseis glowered and nervously fidgeted with her bounds behind her back. 

"They're all fine beauties, My Lord, and most pure. Lord Creceden had thus vowed himself that they were chaste and untouched." 

The high king's lips contorted into a frown of disbelief, his eyes flaunting his skepticism and disinterest at the advisor's quiet assurance. "Hmm? I am unsure if I can really go by faith of the man's word. He has lied to me on numerous occasions before, "Agamemnon replied smoothly, "but… they do look very entertaining…" 

His eyes glazed over as he looked over each girl lustfully, his hand groping and touching, enjoying the simpers elicited out of each in fear of his dominance. "This one…? Marvelous," he purred, his eyes gleaming. The girl could be no older than eighteen for she was youthful but well-developed for a young woman. The girl swallowed nervously, her eyes widening and her body paralyzing upon the king's degrading ministrations. "I'll take her." 

Briseis took pity upon the young girl; she was far too young for such an experience. In fact, many of them were… 

He passed, unfazed, by Lalianes, who breathed a sigh of silent relief, and two others before stopping and facing Briseis herself. "very lovely," he admired, his thick and greasy hands reaching to caress the locks of her hair. 

His other hand reached from head to chest instantly, seeking the silky contact of flesh beyond the soft folds of her gown. His fat fingers grasped and kneaded, causing Briseis to shrink back at the dishonoring action. 

_'Pig,'_ she cursed inwardly, rage taking over. She reacted on instinct and spat upon him, uncaring at the strike of the high king's heavy hand. He remained unsatisfied and slapped her again, his palm connecting to her cheek for a second time with a resounding _'smack!_' "Bitch!" He breathed, angered at the insult. 

Briseis felt herself stumble from the impact and suddenly felt two strong hands grip her arms with sheer, bruising force. The overseer held her with contempt and a twinge of fear, his voice stammering, "I b-beg your pardon, M-My Lord. She has been the most trouble aboard-" 

"Silence!" Agamemnon shouted, wiping his face silently and with an expression of pure hatred and disgust. Briseis smiled inwardly, a feeling of grim satisfaction overcoming her despite the lingering throbbing upon the flesh of her soft cheek. 

Agamemnon glowered at her through the slits of his eyes. "I will teach you a lesson of obedience, girl," he hissed vehemently. Briseis glared defiantly back at him in reply. 

"This one," he announced to his men, his eyes still on her "will go to Achilles. Let us see how her willful and rebellious nature fares to his. I cannot afford to have one girl short and seeing that she is the most disobedient, we will give her to the man that matches her character." 

His gaze quickly flashed onto his men. "Pedotie! Give the girl to the Myrmidon, Eudorus. Inform him that the girl is a prize reserved specifically for his lord and commander." 

"Aye, My Lord." 

Briseis swallowed nervously but kept her emotions of anguish carefully concealed, her eyes moving from the disgusting presence of the king to her only friend and companion. Lalianes gazed at her sorrowfully; her eyes full of raw panic and fear. Briseis knew she wished to run to her, to find comfort in the familiarity of a friend's embrace, but could not in fear of punishment. The woman was terrified, both for herself and for Briseis. It was all apparent within the pools of her soulful, grey eyes. 

_'Be strong,'_ Briseis mouthed, her attention pulled unwillingly back to the king as the overseer began to drag her away. 

"You are a convenience, little one. I should thank Achilles for ridding me of a female pestilence and you for being one worth giving my best and most insolent warlord to. Let us see if your spirited nature remains intact after this little exchange." 

Agamemnon snickered scathingly, watching with wry amusement as Briseis was hauled forcefully, cursing and screaming, out of his tent. 

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Flames of torchlights licked the air, moving in gentle lapping motions, to cast eerie shadows along the enclosing wall of Troy's gardens. The intense glow illuminated her surroundings, bathing the trees and flowers in soft, sparking colours of reds and oranges. All of it glimmered in prosperous beauty, showing off its riches for all eyes to see. Briseis, her supple form covered in the robes of her homeland, walked in observant silence. 

"You have returned, cousin." 

She gasped, startled at the unexpected intrusion. Her soft, purple skirts rustled in cadence with her movements as she whirled to face him, her gaze softening. "Yes, Hector. I have." 

His eyes bore into hers with a look of sadness, his face crumbling. "You should not," he replied sorrowfully. "You have been marked as a slave of Greece. You are slave to a king, a powerful king and now to a powerful warrior. Would you dare return marked, unpure, and of low-standing to our family? You will bring shame upon us. Father will keep you caged, a life of solitude alike to Cassandra." 

Briseis hitched a breath, tears stinging her eyes. His words hurt her more than he would ever know... "Hector, how can you say such things to me? Had I not been forced to go along, my purity would remain intact and I would still have my happiness. I am most assuredly _not_ Cassandra! I have not gone mad and I refuse to die in such a manner as she. Please accept me for who you know me to be and not what I've become?! I beg you! You are my brother in heart, if not by blood," she begged softly, "Please do not renounce me..." 

She wept openly now and sank to her knees in helplessness. This could not be... _'Hector would never abandon me purposely...'_

"I love you Briseis, but you are now his. Let him have you, as he will wish not to loose you easily, for you are no longer welcome here." 

"Hector-" 

"Goodbye, my beloved cousin. My baby sister." His voice was fading, along with his presence, into a heavy void of darkness, leaving the weeping woman alone to her despair. 

"HECTOR! PLEASE, NO!" Briseis screamed, tears pouring heavily down her cheeks as she reached out for him. She was utterly defeated and deserted. Empty. "Hector..." 

_More to Come! Please Read and Review!_


	10. Chapter Eight: A New Master

**Abduction Of A Princess  
**By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: AND HERE IT IS! Whew! Thank you for all your patience on the appearance of our hunky blonde hero LOL! The eye candy has come... kinda. Okay, I knew I had to put this chapter up 'cause otherwise chaosity probably would've had my head! _lmao_. Thanks to everyone for their reviews 'cause that's what keeps me going and I'm glad ppl love my "spunky" Briseis lol.

As for the review for my first page... well, I wrote that in less than 30 seconds, I can't even remember what I said unless if I go back and reread it but my intention was to pretty much to let ppl know what I am basing my own shit on, the relationships, and how I'm doing this. So, I'm not going to say anything further on that. The next chapters will be about our favorite couple becoming closer (_so I'm sure alot of ppl will be excited about that_)...

**Chapter Eight**: A New Master

She reached and clawed for him as her vision faded, her mouth moving to voice incoherent pleas of her protector and favored brother. Ropes bonded her hands together, its thick texture searing and chafing the delicate skin of her wrists and preventing any further movement of retaliation. The lids of her soft brown eyes opened weakly, a vision of rippling, soft trails of sand and a blur of rotating feet catching her attention. She felt herself being carried as if she were nothing, tossed limply over a rigid shoulder of a man as if she were nothing more than a mere sack of flour.  
  
The overseer, she groggily began to realize, must have knocked her out cold, for all she remembered after exiting out of Agamemnon's tent was his snide words and the movement of his arm extending toward her. Then she remembered nothing.  
  
Her vision swam in and out of focus, the effect making Briseis want to fall back into the arms of darkness and unconsciousness. It would be only there that she would find safety and peace. There she would be unfeeling to the world and the villains around her. But her curiosity and fear got the better of her and so, she remained wakeful.   
  
She groaned softly as her awareness became heightened, her senses awakening to not only sight, but sound and smell as well. She could hear whispering, low murmurs of masculine voices around her and the sound of the ocean, roaring water clashing intensely against the earth in natural defiance. She smelled the air, only to cough in reaction to the overwhelming stench of salt and smoke.   
  
She tried to shift from her position on the man carrying her, noticing for the first time that it was not the overseer, but a different man holding her. He was taller and more muscular and the hands grasping her legs held far more strength than her former captor. "Easy woman," he warned softly, his stride along the sands never breaking as he proceeded forward, "It is better if you not put up a struggle."  
  
_Did he think he was the first to tell her of such a warning?_ Briseis gritted her teeth, her mind moving from brief disorientation to anger. She was tired of being treated like nothing more than cattle and now that she felt abandoned by everyone, her own family included, she cared not for warnings made by a Greek.  
  
She remembered now where she was headed and to whom she was to be given to. Let the Greeks kill her! Let Achilles murder her for "her defiance", she cared no more! All she wished now was for death, for her dream marked a warning to her. It had been an omen sent by Apollo, her bloodline's guardian, to tell her that her family no longer sought to find her. She was on her own.  
  
"I can walk," Briseis hissed, her legs attempting to kick out at him.  
  
He held her tighter, making her even angrier. "Aye," he agreed, "but then you can also run and I cannot allow it for I am to give you as prize to My Lord."  
  
"You are a fool then," She spat, furious. "You Greeks are despicable. You treat women as if they were nothing more than livestock and possessions!"  
  
Eudorus only cracked a smile, unfazed by her heated comments. "They told me you were a spirited one," he replied, "and they, for certain, were not lying... I think my Lord will be very amused with you. You have quite a tongue, _My Lady_."  
  
He gave the title mockingly, obviously trying to bait her further into conflict. Briseis huffed and pounded her tied hands against his back angrily. "Put me down you swine for I can walk myself!"  
  
"The answer is no and we are almost there."  
  
Briseis continued to struggle, albeit in vain as he continued to tighten his grasp. They must have been walking for awhile, for there were few men out and the area was practically deserted. "What kind of great warrior camps far from his own pig-of-a-king anyway? Are you men rogues or just cowards that lead helpless women to their slaughter?" she questioned spitefully, unaware that she was doing naught but amusing the man further.  
  
_Achilles is to have his hands full with this one!_ He thought to himself in silence, grinning madly at his musings, _whatever shall he do with that tongue of hers…  
  
_He knew now why Agamemnon had given her away as prize. She had a fighting spirit that matched his Lord's and her outspoken nature must have no doubt left a scarring impression on the high king of their country. Achilles received the fairest of his women but one with a tongue that could no doubt match the blade of the sharpest sword in Greece. Agamemnon had far little interest or patience in defiant women, for he knew not how to tame them.  
  
They stopped suddenly and Briseis struggled more fiercely as her body was suddenly flung around onto its feet. She caught a brief glance of her captor, noticing pale eyes of blue and dark matted hair, before she was pushed unwillingly into a large olive-colored tent.   
  
She cried out as his hands grasped from behind at her arms, holding her in place. "My Lord," he spoke quietly, "I have returned from the summons of Agamemnon with your prize."  
  
"My prize?" An astonished voice asked softly. She caught sight of a large form on the opposite side of the tent, his muscular back bare and exposed to them as he sat up from his position on the floor.  
  
She caught a glimpse of his golden hair and bronze skin, sparkling from candle light, as he turned to gaze at them, uncaring that he was half dressed in their presence and his unashamed sapphire eyes fell upon her with what seemed like vague interest. "Tell Agamemnon that he can keep his prizes, I have no use for them."  
  
"He insists, My Lord, that this girl be yours, for he has lost patience with her right upon her arrival," Eudorus interjected, a small smirk curving upon his lips. "He gives her to you freely and insists you take her… if there is a refusal, he advises you to give her over to his army."  
  
_He is turning me away because he despises his own king,_ Briseis realized. Her momentary joy was quickly crushed by the mention of Agamemnon's army. She shivered unconsciously. _Surely these men were not that cruel?!_ Eudorus must have noticed, for he loosened his grip in reassurance. "Would you prefer leaving her here before making a decision?" He asked, albeit cautiously.  
  
The man, handsome but still untrustworthy and Greek in Briseis' mind, seemed to nod dismissively. "Yes, she will stay here," he decided, "I am not so malevolent as to give a maiden slave woman over to a whole army of Agamemnon's miscreants. Leave us."  
  
"Aye, My Lord."   
  
He left in silence, without further word, and Briseis found herself standing alone. She watched her new master warily, her feet moving backward as he stepped closer.  
  
"I will not harm you," He assured, "you need not fear me."

_More to Come! Please Read and Review!_


	11. Chapter Nine: Alluring Connections

**Abduction of A Princess  
**By: Sheiado

**Chapter Nine**: Strange Connections

Briseis had never seen a man that she could, in truth, label as beautiful. That is, until now. But even beauty beheld danger and she entrusted her welfare to no man, least of all a Greek. He stood before her, assessing her in silence, before making the decision to walk forward. "I will not harm you," he assured softly; "You need not fear me."  
  
His words failed to deter her unease and so, at his approach, Briseis stepped back, her eyes watching his every move guardedly. "Can I really trust you to keep your word?" Briseis asked quietly, breaking their uncomfortable silence as her eyes locked onto his. She showed no fear as she spoke, revealing only her intense distrust.  
  
He appraised her courage just as he did now her beauty but kept all of his judgments to himself. Her response to his assurance puzzled him and his brow furrowed as he questioned, "You believe me not to be a man of my word?"  
  
She stepped farther away from him, answering, "I trust few men in general, My Lord, but none have really kept their promises to me."  
  
Ah! It mattered not if promises were given, if a man were kind or cruel, or if a man was well-renown. She distrusted and, even if secretly, feared all men. "I am a man, yes," Achilles spoke gently, wanting to reassure her, "I will not deny that many would succumb to their primal urges and take what they wish for themselves. Some, indeed, cannot be trusted and I have no doubt that you have met many. I, however, am a man that likes their women willing and I will not dishonor you or your wishes. You are safe here, I promise you."  
  
His words seemed to have soothed her vigilant behavior for she nodded in acceptance and sat down quietly at a safe distance.  
  
"In truth, I have no use for a slave girl," he continued, observing her in silence. She was indeed beautiful, almost enchanting with her cascading curls of raven black and fair, pale skin. Her eyes among all her features were the most enthralling to him; they showed the depths of a soulful creature, the spirit of an exceptionally headstrong woman.  
  
She gazed up at him unflinchingly, her face masked with a blank, unreadable expression. "If you have no use for a slave girl, My Lord, then why not kill me and get it over with?"  
  
The response puzzled him far more than her not taking his word of promise to heart. The idea, in itself upset him, especially since it was generated by one whose beauty outmatched any he had ever seen in Pthia; to take a life as valuable as hers seemed like a waste and an unworthy cause. She astounded him in the sense that she held such passion in her eyes and yet, kept courage in the face of danger. Most women, slaves especially, typically cowered at his feet in fear. This one treated him like he was an equivalent to an enemy on a battlefield. "You would wish for death so quickly?" he asked, suddenly ever the more intrigued by her.  
  
Briseis wringed the silky material of her skirts absently, her wrists grazing against the harsh straps of rope still tied to her. "And why not?" She admonished, trying not to speak her answers recklessly, "I'd rather die than go back to that man you prefer to call king. You are a warrior, are you not? Is killing not what you do?"  
  
The curtain of her hair tumbled gracefully off of her cheek as she gazed up at him, a challenging look in her eyes.  
  
Achilles shook his head before padding over to his bed of furs. "I do not take the lives of women or children and as I have said, you are safe here. You will not have to return to Agamemnon as you are considered mine by his decree. No one will take you from this tent or me."  
  
Briseis merely stared at him, her eyes softening at his admittance. She found herself impressed by him. The great warrior, Achilles, indeed had a human heart? "When I heard of you," she spoke, "I thought you to be nothing more than a dumb brute."   
  
Achilles smiled wistfully at her confession. "And now?"  
  
Her eyes fell from his as she began studying the material of her gown, "I do not know," she admitted softly. He was a man and a son of Greece, how much trust could she dare put into him?  
  
She felt his eyes on her for the longest time, just watching, possibly making a decision on what to do with her. Tired of the silent tension, Briseis gazed back up daringly. His eyes startled her, for he had the most intense set of blue sapphire irises that she had ever seen before in her life. There were very few people she knew with eyes as deep and blue as the Aegean Sea, for it was a rarity unless if one were of Grecian blood. But not all Greeks carried such intensity within their eyes as this man. Others she had seen seemed so hollow in comparison…  
  
His lips quirked into a smug, arrogant smile at her entranced expression, making Briseis snap out of her reverie to frown at him. She was blessed, for the dim candle light showed no hint of the blush now painted across her cheeks.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
He turned his gaze over to the bed at his side, covered with animal pelts, to bend down and grasp his fingers around the cold hilt of a dagger. Briseis swallowed hard, shifting her position silently on the floor.  
  
Achilles took almost immediate notice of her apprehension and murmured gently, "here, let me take care of those for you". He gestured toward her bound hands as he approached her with caution, not wanting to upset her. Briseis froze as he knelt at her side, his hands grabbing at her binds to slice them open.  
  
"Briseis," she answered softly, beyond caring that she indeed used her real name in response.  
  
His eyes found hers as he cut open the last piece of rope, "Are you afraid, Briseis?"  
  
She stared in silence, finding herself once again enthralled by him, staring into eyes that made her feel as if she were drowning in a deep blue sea. His lips were just inches apart from hers, making her conscious of their close proximity. "Should I be?" she breathed, silently scolding herself moments later. _He was to be her enemy…  
_  
And yet, Briseis felt drawn to him…  
  
_"The sea takes and the sea gives. Takes lives, it will do but it will also give life. It will direct you, fear not, lost one..."_

_More to Come! Please Read and Review!_


	12. Chapter Ten: Waters of Pthia

**Abduction of A Princess**  
By: Sheiado

****

**Author's Note**: Yeppers, I used the name from the novel! (Guess I shoulda used that in the disclaimer.. hehe) . Wow, I'm not the only one to read it! As for my quote... yes, it is semi mine. _"The sea takes and the sea gives"_ is a quote that kinda stuck with me from the movie "Secrets of the Roan Innish". I just added my own part to it.

**Chapter Note**: This is a chapter set for a scene in Pthia. Now, can u guess who the girl is? _grins_ Well, I got to get this one out and then we'll get back to the Briseis/Achilles scenes (which i KNOW ppl wanna read! LOL).

**Chapter Ten**: Waters of Pthia

Light glimmered from atop the ocean's waters, sparkling from shore to distance along the horizon of Pthia. The sun was beginning to fall from sky to Earth, releasing clashing colors of pinks, purples, and oranges. Waves of the water tumbled and crashed repetitively against the rock of the land, its low rumble reverberating to the shoreline. The salty air and the soft wind made a serene and calming addition to the sights of the ocean or, at least to Thetis, it did. It was even better during quiet and lonely nights.  
  
She walked barefoot in purple and blue skirts along the shore, her lips curling into a fond smile as her toes sank against the squishy, damp sand. A breeze had caught her hair, sending tendrils of gray and brown swirling into the open air around her. Being here reminded her of her youth and when Achilles was yet a young boy.  
  
All she had in her mind when she thought of the ocean was good thoughts, pure and untouched. The ocean was her innocence and she admired its beauty, the shiny, clear surface of it, and the vast life which was held within it. The ocean is and always will be eternal, it is of the past and the present, and it possessed so many untold stories…  
  
Her blue eyes, old eyes full of wisdom and compassion, glided along the horizon. And for moments she stood, admiring the beautiful and sparkling mixture of untouched colors no artist in the world could master or recreate.  
  
As she gazed admiringly within the silence of sunset, she stopped her thoughts, her senses becoming heightened. The natural elements of her world often ignited a divine spark within her; it was both a gift and sometimes a troubled tendency given. A soft, pleading whisper floated to her along the breeze, a message aided no doubt by the Goddess herself. _'Help me please…'_  
  
The whisper, the soft unknown plea, began to pick up a series of images within her mind's eye. She saw a young woman, bright and beautiful with auburn hair; smile kindly to her, followed by horrific images of blood and savage beatings. Pain radiated from the girl's emerald eyes, a feeling suddenly consuming Thetis herself, and her cheeks were stained and reddened with sticky tears. Screams, pleas, and angered shouts of a man invaded her mind and Thetis sharply turned her head from it.

The voices from the vision ceased into silence.  
  
The premonition was lost to her, but her eyes continued to follow and venture the shoreline with an ill-fated sense... and they stopped right upon the sight of a limp and unconscious woman lying within the sand. It was the same woman she saw in her vision. Not hesitating for a moment, Thetis ran toward her, calling out loudly for her nephew.  
  
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()  
  
She followed quietly behind as Patroclus, with extreme care and tenderness, carried the unconscious woman slumped within the crook of his arms from the shore. They walked toward the gates of the palace calmly, already knowing that the girl was in a slow process of dying. Despite her unfortunate condition, Thetis knew the young woman's journey to Pthia had not been one of accident, but of purpose from the Gods. The reason for her presence, however, had yet to be understood by Thetis.  
  
The guards, upon their approach, opened the gate in silent compliance and respectfully bowed their heads.   
  
"Where do you wish me to place her aunt?" Patroclus asked, turning to gaze questioningly at his elder.  
  
"In Irelia's old quarters," She answered, "It is made up and being unoccupied."  
  
Patroclus nodded and continued his journey, his posture revealing uneasiness. His parents had died in a condition similar to the young woman's and sickness was both a harsh and far worse way to perish in death.  
  
He placed her gently upon the bed and looked to Thetis as she informed him rather hastily, "Tell Amora to boil some water and leave for my hut, Patroclus. You know of what herbs I wish for you to bring back."  
  
"Yes, Aunt." The young man walked with haste out of the room and as he left, Thetis began to get the woman out of her clothes with the help of her personal maid that followed obediently inside.  
  
One, Dia, as she was called, gasped aloud, "My Lady, she is a slave," she whispered, fingering the mark embedded onto her skin silently, "she has been branded."  
  
"And also beaten," Thetis noted dryly, her eyes following the various bruises along her flesh. "Despite her status, she will be healed and treated as a guest. Tell no one of the mark you have seen on her, for I fear there are people that may be after her."  
  
"Yes, My Lady," Dia acknowledged meekly.   
  
Thetis continued to work diligently at pulling off the damp fabric from the girl's clammy limbs. She knew Dia would be silent of what she saw if Thetis requested it. The woman was far from being a palace gossip anyway.   
  
After the woman was dressed in dry underclothes and her hair was laid out in a more neat disarray, Patroclus was admitted entrance with the fresh cut herbs that Thetis bade him to bring and Amora strolled in with the requested water.  
  
"Good," Thetis accepted approvingly. Her eyes met gravely to her nephew's. "You need not stay if that is what you wish. She is in for a long and troubled night."  
  
Patroclus nodded solemnly but found himself drawn to the young woman lying helpless, weak, and consumed with fever in bed. "If you should need anything, Aunt, call for me. I will watch her for you if you should need rest."  
  
"I will do just that then," Thetis replied with a fond, loving smile, briefly cupping the young man's face before turning back to her patient. She was in for a long night indeed…

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()0

Sorry, I just had to put another pair in here... what can I say? I'm a sucker for Patroclus/OC stories._ More to come! Please read and review!_


	13. Chapter Eleven: A Thoughtful Process

**Abduction of A Princess**  
By: Sheiado

**Author's Note:** Well, I told yalls that I'd get back to it! And yes, I have had the idea of Patroclus/OC since the beginning (there are so few of them and I wanted to be fully happy with _more_ in this story! Lol). More surprises to come, _Muhahahaha!_ Enjoy!

**Chapter Eleven**: A Thoughtful Process

To her amazement, the warrior had kept his word to her and Briseis slowly became less wary in his presence. She helped him when he graciously asked, whether it was with armor or stitching, or when there was a chore for her to attend to that kept her busy for the remainder of the day. Other than that she cooked, cleaned, or mended the wounds of Myrmidon soldiers returning from battle.   
  
She was given admittance outside the tent if she wished, both for bathing purposes and for her own leisure. Achilles seemed to understand that remaining secluded in a tent for days on end would most assuredly drive anyone to the brink of madness. So, he let her go as far as the stream routed near the Myrmidon camp.  
  
She ventured out sometimes on her own, finding the salty air and the gentle paddle of rippling water soothing. She would sit or sometimes scrub clothes while she thought of Troy and of Hector; sometimes she would even sit and ponder her life as it was now. She needed it, for making directional decisions on her life would most certainly have far-reaching consequences. Did she dare run to home or stay in this new life given to her?  
  
Returning to her family was an option now hopeless to her for she had little confidence in confronting them than she did before. Her life would remain in ruins; she had no prosperous aspect for a Lord in marriage and she bore a mark looked down upon even by servants. Her dream had revealed a little truth in its message but it had also left out one single, simple fact; it would be _herself_ that locks her away. She wanted to be unmarried to a man, but not under these circumstances. No one would take the word of her chastity to become a priestess and so, her life was now out of her hands.  
  
Her family, her loving uncle and her favorite cousin who served more as a brother to her were among those that she would most assuredly miss. But she couldn't stand the idea of things changing from what they use to be. And if she returned in her present state, things would never come close to being the same again. Perhaps her life as a slave would have a less enclosed aspect to it?  
  
If her masters were evil, she would put preference to death or a gloomy, ruined life in Troy. However, she had little complaint towards the one who possessed her now; he was kind to her and not the dumb, Greek brute she had originally presumed him to be. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on, that fact she couldn't deny. But Briseis refused to degrade herself from slave to concubine and nobles, warlords even, would most certainly not want a serious, faithful relationship to a slave. And she would not cheapen herself any further.  
  
He could have many women, most possessing far more beauty than herself and in the workings of societal station, he would choose a woman of great stature and beauty. She was now a slave and slaves, when bedded, were used and discarded later. After all, Paris himself had once told her when he was but a young boy of growing age and her still a child, _"Slaves are not meant to be married and faithful to. They, er… have their uses, Briseis, but quite frankly, servants aren't even all that fond to marrying them. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"  
_  
They rarely spoke to one another, as he was gone by daybreak and returned late after sunset. She was fast asleep by his return and all work she performed throughout the day was finally finished by then. Sometimes Briseis would think that she felt the stare of his eyes, piercing sapphire on her, but quickly dismissed it for it was wishful thinking. She would be _his_ on this island and likely wherever else he chose to move next, but he would never be _hers_. She had no claim over anything and she wouldn't dare to presume that he had an attraction to her.  
  
Her direction of thinking was suddenly becoming unsettling and ruining what was to be her "pleasurable quiet time" alone. _'Stop thinking of the depressed chaos that your life has fallen into, Briseis'.   
  
_Water dripped and trickled down in fat, heavy droplets along the curve of her shoulder and the smooth slope of her back as she wringed out the cloth fully soaked and laden with the cool, tumbling liquid flowing at her feet. Her back was exposed and she was careful to remove one item at a time for she wished not to have a man walk in on her while she was bathing.  
  
She washed herself in silence, her thoughts moving from her family, her old life, and her new one, to the camp of Agamemnon. Had Lalianes made it out alright? Were she and the others being treated with care? The questions began to worry her and she could not check to ease her mind for the camp of Agamemnon was a far walk and, if she were to venture there, there was no sure guarantee of her protection. She cared not of punishment but the risks involved in trespassing onto the Mycenae soldier camp. There were far too many to sneak past through.  
  
Biting her lip, Briseis adjusted her clothing, now completely satisfied and thoroughly cleaned. She would have to figure out something. Hopefully by daybreak tomorrow…  
  
She picked up her discarded clothes and basket, her eyes glazed and her mind deep in worry and agitation. Once again, she had been caught off guard by simple qualms, for a pair of eyes watched her closely and seemed to follow almost her every move.

()()()()()()()()()()()

She had spent the remainder of the day trying to compose a decent plan and now that it was daybreak of the next morning, she still had a few complications in great need of adjusting. She needed to get out from the Myrmidon encampment _unnoticed_ and she would have to return before dusk _alive_.

_'Gods, why does misfortune always seem to follow me?'_ Briseis wondered, her feet silently moving out of her early morning stream wash toward Achilles' tent. She had to do it by at least the next morn, as another victory had been won and Achilles would no longer be gone for the whole hours of day. He would be with her more and that meant she would be under his watch often. For now she was on her own with a few Myrmidons guarding the camp and what was left of the army's wounded.

Sighing heavily, Briseis made her way back, her lips curving into a smile as she spotted Calaus running swiftly through the sands, his father's axe wielded in his hands. Calaus was far too young for battle, as he had told her while she was patching up the wounded when she met him, but his father had to bring him because he had no one back home to care for him. While staying with the Myrmidons, he was tutored eagerly by his father's comrades and was told battle stories around the night fires.

Briseis sometimes chatted with him, finding his innocent and upbeat demeanor intoxicating. Being around him often lifted an emotional burden off of her shoulders, at least for a few moments at a time. She could concentrate on something that didn't involve life trials, loss, politics, and war. And unlike most, the boy cared less that she was a slave.

The men in the encampment kept their distance from her, with the exception of Eudorus who, through relentless teasing, loved driving her to the brink of aggravation. Few, other than the soldiers treated by her, spoke or actually conversed with her. It wasn't something that she minded terribly but sometimes it was lonely; she no longer had Lalianes to keep her company.

"Calaus, be careful," Briseis called softly, walking with a smile. The boy grinned back, his arms waving at her before treading off again.

"Boys," Briseis chuckled. He reminded her of Paris. Paris loved nothing more than to cause mischief and get into trouble, there was no exception with how far his plans would go and Briseis couldn't keep count with how many times he had gotten her into trouble with her Uncle or Hector. Hector, of course, cared not of what she actually did. His blame always fell toward Paris and not her, much to his younger brother's chagrin.

_"Why do you always go after ME? Why don't you ever punish Briseis?!"_

_"Because she isn't the one prone to causing complete chaos within the walls of Troy, Paris! Everything you do has your name practically chiseled onto it!"_

Shaking her head at the memories, both happy and painful, Briseis padded into the tent, her feet moving toward the bed of furs where she slept. She piled what supplies she needed, needles, threads, bandages, and herbs, to tend to the wounded and scooped it up into a single pouch of cow hide.

_'That should do it,'_ she thought to herself, happy that she had managed to find just the right herbs needed. The teachings Cassandra had given her when she was but a child had finally come into some use.

She placed the medicine pouch atop the furs, her head moving toward the back wall to check if there were any more bandages she could use. She stopped her movements altogether, noticing a foreboding shadow standing near the tent flaps.

Briseis gasped as she turned, her feet backing up cautiously from the intruder.

"Hello, pretty."

_More to Come! Please Read and Review!_


	14. Chapter Twelve: Dangers of a Camp Intrus...

**Abduction Of A Princess  
**By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Yep, the villain has returned! And has arrived quite unexpectedly, might I add! _Tee hee! _

**Chapter Twelve**: Dangers of a Camp Intrusion

He leered at her in appreciation, his eyes raking up and down her body hungrily as his lips twitched and his feet moved slowly forward like a determined predator. "Yes, I remember you well…" he spoke audaciously.  
  
Briseis prolonged his impending approach as much as possible, her body inching backward as her mind worked at a frantic rate. "You are not supposed to be here," She sneered, "You are of Agamemnon's army."  
  
He grinned wolfishly. "Aye, but what does that matter?"  
  
"You are in the Myrmidon camp and in their leader's tent. You dare to come here for me? Do you have a death wish?"  
  
She kept her voice icy and flat, her heart pounding in her ears as she realized with a final, doomed certainty that she was indeed trapped and with no chance to run an escape. She tried to gaze around the room for a weapon, cursing silently when she noticed that he was blocking that path as well. _'Damn,'_ she cursed silently, her eyes moving back to gaze at the potential danger slowly approaching her.  
  
"I am a warlord just as this man is," he hissed scathingly, "His stories are the equivalent of wives' tales. I fear no one, _especially no man_! He has defied Agamemnon far more than I and he receives one of _my_ best women for his impudence?! I shall have you before him!"  
  
Briseis glared. "I am not, nor have I ever been, _your _woman. And seeing that I don't belong to you, you should leave before you are castrated."  
  
"An idle threat from a feeble slave woman," Creceden replied, his smile growing, "I like your spirit, Maenra."  
  
Briseis glowered at his words. "That is not my name and I would advise you to stay away from me."  
  
"That, My Lady, I shall not do."   
  
It took only a few long strides to reach her, but Briseis was prepared for him. She refused to submit to anyone out of fear, especially this man. She extended her left fist abruptly, curving her arm to hook him square in the jaw and moved inward to knee him in the groin. She didn't come out of his grasp in time, however, for he grabbed her by the hair and quickly overpowered her.  
  
Tears stung her eyes at his vicious grasp upon her raven locks and Briseis cried out as she was flung bonelessly onto the floor. "Now, let us see if you are just as pleasurable as you look..."  
  
"No!" Using years of experience with wrestling around with her cousins, Briseis locked her left foot around his ankle, striking swiftly with her right foot toward his outer thigh. She got the desired outcome, for his feet was kicked out expertly from beneath him.

Creceden cried out in surprise as he toppled unceremoniously onto the floor, his face and torso wide open for an attack. Briseis wasted no time in using the vulnerable moment of opportunity and so, swung her leg out to kick him square in the face, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as she heard the abrupt crunching of bones beneath her feet. A nose was broken.

"BITCH!" He screeched, his fingers grasping around his face and nose; where thick crimson liquid oozed from the injury of his nostrils.

Briseis immediately scrambled from the floor to the entrance; close.... but not close enough. The injury appeared only to increase the warlord's fury and adrenaline, for the man instantly got up upon her prompt attempt at escape and charged forward. His strong, thick hands grasped the flesh of her waist firmly, his arms propelling her backward. "Not so fast, woman!"

()()()()()()()()()()

Achilles sighed at the state of Agamemnon's men, plundering and acting as if they were mere children arguing over spoils. He had not come to this land out of dedication for the man who crowned himself "high king" of Greece, but only out of mere need to experience more battle; to unleash his itch of fighting and wielding his sword.

He had wasted a full year and finally grew tired in Pthia. Now he had experienced and now he was eager, just as his men, to return home. His efforts hadn't started to get interesting up until a week ago and Agamemnon's "offer", albeit unintentionally, had finally begun to bear fruit for him.

He stood off on the sands, his eyes watching in silence as the fires blazed and the men, the soldiers of Greece, stormed through the houses of nobles and merchants. His men stood off to the side next to him, finding the worthless soldiers of the Grecian army amusing. The spoils meant very little to them, for the Myrmidon army was ensured an impending journey home from the victory to their families in Greece by their Lord and leader.

They would be home within a month's time and for this, they were all grateful. Achilles was happy with their enthusiasm, for he didn't mind returning to Pthia also, and with what would be brought along with him. He had spent little time as he had actually wished in the company of Briseis, for his men were called out alongside him frequently onto the battlefield.

He found his thoughts often straying towards her. As little as they had spoken to one another, she intrigued him greatly. She acted nothing like a meek and uneducated slave like most he had met and she carried herself in a very odd and peculiar manner. His men that had been fatally wounded thanked him for her help, informing him with gratitude in their eyes that she had helped mend and heal their wounds while telling stories of her homeland to keep them awake with her.

They say she has the grace and beauty of Aphrodite and the spirit of Athena and Achilles found himself not being able to argue against their comparisons. Sometimes he would observe her working in silence, noticing how her eyes, soulful and vulnerable, appeared sad and faraway. He would even catch it change to become a mask, an emotionless void, when she was in the presence of another. It left him curious and wanting to know more about her. He had never met a woman with real depths before, other than his mother, but hers was far more different and mysterious. And no woman he had ever met and desired, noble, slave, or servant, had ever turned down the opportunity to warm his bed.

His men and a young boy spent far more time with her than him and if anything, he couldn't stand being envious over the attention given by one single woman. The next coming days, he vowed, would be for him and Briseis and Achilles had every intention of getting what he wanted.

"When shall we be leaving, My Lord?" Eudorus asked at his side, watching the army with blatant distaste.

"In one week," Achilles answered flatly, "And I can care less if Agamemnon has any objections toward it."

Eudorus smiled. "Thank you, My Lord."

"I'm as anxious to get off of this sorry excuse for a land as you are. I have no wish to stay here any further than that. Let the men know."

"Yes, My Lord."

"_MY LORD ACHILLES!!!!!_" Both men turned in unison toward the abrupt intrusion, seeing the boy, Calaus, running full speed toward them. "_MY LORD_!"

Rolenius, the boy's father, instantly took notice of him and frowned. "_CALAUS!_ _Get back to the camp, boy!!!_"

The child pushed through some of the bigger Myrmidons blocking his path and stopped just a few feet shy of them. Rolenius stepped angrily to his son's side, ready to give him a sound verbal lashing.

"My Lord," He rasped, "It is Briseis! You must help her! A man came into camp, killed Silas and Amon, and he came after her! He didn't see me so I ran to find you."

Eudorus looked to his leader instantly, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. His eyes, typically a serene deep blue, shifted to a raging cobalt and his fist curled tightly around the hilt of his sword to the point where Eudorus could practically see it twitch for a kill. "Eudorus, come with me, we are returning to camp," he ordered icily. "The rest of you men can do as you wish."

Calaus nodded and moved forward, but was stopped unexpectedly by a harsh grasp on his shoulder. He gazed up into the eyes of Rolenius. "And where do you think_ you're_ going?"

Calaus frowned, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest with a determined look on his youthful, cherub face. "To save Briseis!"

Rolenius released him, patting him proudly on the shoulder with a chuckle. "I think you're going to have to wait your turn, son. Achilles is going to get to him first. You're staying here, with me."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

She tried to squirm and struggle, even as she was weak with exhaustion. They had been fighting each other for a decent amount of time but Briseis was the first out of the two to begin losing her strength and both knew that her attempts were growing to be futile; she could not hold him at bay any longer.

"I was going to make this easy and as painless as possible, but you had to make it difficult," Creceden hissed, his body covering hers. "Now it will only be painful for you."

He leered above her, smiling triumphantly as he locked both of her wrists above her head. Briseis gritted her teeth, her legs kicking out at him, only to be pinned seconds later by his own powerful limbs. "You put up a good fight, but now you are mine to use as I please."

Briseis glared up at him defiantly, spitting upon him just as she had Agamemnon. "Pig," She spat, only to recieve a stinging slap across her face in reply.

"You won't think so highly of yourself after I am done with you, Wench," He threatened chillingly, His lips pressing themselves forcefully against her own. Briseis suddenly heard a sharp tear at the front of her garments.

"You won't be needing these anymore either," he taunted lustfully, his eyes eagerly drinking up the sight of her creamy skin, bare and exposed, to him. Briseis shuddered in disgust as she felt his fingers knead and harshly fondle the skin beneath her skirts. Too overpowered and vulnerable, Briseis did the only thing she could do. She screamed.

_More to Come, Please Read and Review!_


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Warlord Feud

****

**Abduction of A Princess  
**By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Yeppers, I left ya with a cliffy! _shrugs sheepishly. _Yes, I do have plans for more A/B action... I need to get through my other ideas first. Because my story is now getting more in tune with everything I want and becoming a little more graphic, it is now R-rated (srry to disappoint ppl but I prefer to go all out on my stories). Thank you to my reviewers (I LOVE you guys!).

**Chapter Note**: _Calaus to the rescue!_... not! j/k. I'm gonna go through this little drama and then in a few chappies it will go back to Pthia for a brief time. I'm a Patroclus/OC fan and I know that there _has_ to be more than just me existing on this site (other than Silver Magiccraft! Ya girl!) So, I'm gonna satisfy ppl with that pairing soon (count this as a future warning to ya _wink_).

**Chapter Thirteen**: Warlord Feud

Achilles and Eudorus raced through the sands side by side, each armed at the ready with swords wielded within the grasp of their strong hands. Any man that sneaks into the camp of Achilles, kills his men, and takes what is rightfully owned by him, is a dead one. And Eudorus felt no pity for the individual that would undoubtedly suffer from his leader's wrath.

Achilles ran with fury, his eyes containing a noticeable, barely concealed rage that would no doubt lead any man into a state of utter terror. His lips were pulled back into a tight, thin frown and his movements never faltered, not even once. His determination was undeniable.

They passed through Agamemnon's encampment, unabashed by the inquiring stares as they ventured out in deathly silence. If any had been thinking to intrude upon their path, they were quickly deterred, for the fury in Achilles was blatantly evident; it was evident in his every stride, in the tension of his muscles, and in the intense fervor set in his deep cerulean eyes.

He wondered silently what was in his Lord's thoughts, for he knew not what angered him more, the attack on Briseis or the death of his two Myrmidon men? He knew his master was growing fond of the girl, for Eudorus would notice his eyes soften at the sight of her or how he would gaze into nothingness, consumed with thoughts of what Eudorus assumed to be the girl living inside of his tent. It was an expressive action, recent and utterly new by him; and Achilles likely knew not that he had revealed his first true source of vulnerability to his men. A woman.

They were getting closer and if the sights were not indication, the feminine shrill that echoed in the distance certainly was. The deafening sound encouraged them further, speeding up their fluid movements in a sort of pure, instinctive reaction. Their pace hastened, minutes dragged on, and their blood quickened with adrenaline as they entered camp.

"Eudorus," Achilles ordered gruffly, not once breaking his stride, "Stop before the entrance. I want to surprise our unwelcome guest."

Eudorus nodded tersley. He hoped they would make it in time.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Quiet, Whore," he sneered in annoyance, positioning his weight upon her struggling body. Briseis continued to cry out in protest.

Utterly aggravated, Creceden untangled his fingers from her breast to reach into the confines of his belt. He unsnapped the constricting material, both to prepare to take her while she was pinned helpless beneath him and to pull out a bargaining tool to silence any screaming victim.

She froze instantly, closing her eyes as a cold sliver of metal caressed and grazed the delicate flesh of her throat. Smiling, grinning ear to ear triumphantly, he mocked in a delighted voice, "I told you it would get painful. The more you struggle, the more harm that will come to you."

She hissed at the searing pain that rippled through her as the blade nipped and sliced a light dance of silent threat across her flesh. "Then so be it," she sneered recklessly, her eyes still closed, "You will be raping a corpse then!"

"You impudent-!!!" He slapped her soundly, satisfied when her head, dizzy from the impact, lolled back onto the floor.

He wasted no time in taking advantage. The knife wielded within the thick curve of his hand sliced through her gown smoothly, creating a sufficient slit in one, single stroke to expose the creamy, tender skin of her breasts.

Briseis felt the room spin, oblivious to the actions of her attacker atop of her, as she struggled to gain composure over the black spots swimming in and out of her vision. _Was this truly happening to her?_

An answer was received by soft fluttering skirts and the feeling of thick, clammy hands grasping and constricting her wrists on either side of her head. _'No,'_ Briseis thought stubbornly, _"No…"_

He leaned over her as she weakly opened her eyes, his lips twitching into a hideous smile before hiding at the base of her throat. She shuddered in revulsion as he licked and nipped at her. "Now, for the fun part," he whispered lustfully.

She whimpered in protest, weak and defenseless. Silently, she prayed for Hector…

His hands were all over her, his weight fully positioned to crush her… and then she felt nothing. The burden of his mass was abruptly lifted and through the haze of her vision, Briseis saw a blur of two new figures standing behind him.

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_Nothing and no one can spare his life_, Achilles swore. It mattered not if it was even Agamemnon himself. He was a dead man.

They had stopped in silence before the tent entrance, Achilles signaling his second in command to take the other side with a gesture of his hand. Eudorus nodded and took suit, his sword drawn and held up for reception.

They listened intently to what was happening inside.

"Far side," Eudorus whispered, "One man."

Achilles nodded affirmedly. "Now."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

His head was yanked back forcefully by a powerful grip around his hair, his throat exposed to a blade that was hovered from behind him.

"And who, may I ask, dares to enter my camp, kill two of my men, and rape a woman?" Achilles questioned icily, gripping Creceden upright by his hair.

"Achilles," Creceden replied slickly, "Why, I was just visiting with what is mine."

Briseis, sitting up shakily and adjusting her tattered clothes with numb fingers, glanced over at the two. Achilles' eyes met hers briefly, his expression softening. "Eudorus-"

Eudorus appeared at her side, almost instantly, and slipped a cloak around her as he helped her stand upon unstable feet. She leaned against him, her body trembling as she gripped the material tighter around her.

"Creceden," the name dripped with heavy loathing from his lips.

Achilles released him, shoving him at his front to point the end of his blade at the warlord's neck. "I can see you came of your own accord," he spoke vehemently, "Do you have any last words before I slit your throat?"

The warlord smirked, no flash of fear met his eyes nor was there even a flicker of apprehension. "I came to claim what is rightfully mine."

"You have claim to nothing here and if you think otherwise then you are a fool. Entering my camp was folly, a reckless act on your part."

"You cannot kill me," Creceden gloated snidely, his thin lips pulled back into a taunting smirk. "If death meets me on this day then my brother will have your head on a platter. War will come to you and he is far more ruthless than I."

The blade nicked at his flesh begrudgingly in response and the deep cobalt eyes of Achilles, full of rage, narrowed to slits. "Then so be it. Do not be so presumptuous, young prince, for any man that crosses me pays in full. War was brought upon you the moment you set foot upon Myrmidon camp and the moment you laid hands on her."

"Then war it shall be," he spat, eyes blazing.

The blade sliced in precision, cutting through flesh in one fluid movement. The man's eyes continued to stare at him, first in rage and then with vacancy, eyes utterly lifeless. Briseis moved her gaze away from the sight, her face burrowing into Eudorus' shoulder as deep crimson dispensed from the gaping wound at her attacker's throat.

A thud echoed in the tent, the corpse of the once-living Prince toppling dead onto the ground, his soul pulled to Hades.

_More to Come! Please Read and Review!_


	16. Chapter Fourteen: Nightmares

**Abduction Of A Princess**  
By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Thank you to my previous reviews! And gimme some more! LOL _Hey, the truth is_: the more I get, the more excited about writing this I become so PLEASE give me your feedback! hehe...

**Chapter Fourteen**: Nightmares

The body smacked sickly against the floor, echoing in uninterrupted silence as it flopped toward a lifeless venture in the direction of the underworld. Creceden would have a fitting place in the domain of Hades, where his treacherous actions in life would no doubt gain him consequence in the weighing of his sins.  
  
The sword of his enemy lowered in expectancy of his downfall, knowing full well that his last breath had been taken and the threat of him no longer held relevancy. The room ceased into silence and it felt as if a God were present in the room, slowing time itself in the stillness of death.  
  
Achilles remained transfixed, his sapphire eyes now serene and satisfied by bloodshed, onto the corpse lying at the base of his feet. He was still toiling with inner emotions, what had remained dormat for so long, as he gazed at the lifeless body below him with vacant interest. He was boiling beneath the surface of his own skin, his anger channelling from Creceden to himself; he should have done things more differently, otherwise his men would still be alive and able to return home to their families in Greece and Briseis would have remained unharmed.

At the thought of her, Achilles looked up, his gaze falling upon the silky curls, the color of a raven's feather nestled into the crook of his friend's arms. Her beautiful face, now undoubtedly etched with horror, was buried into his shoulder, her eyes shielded from the gory sight blanketing the matted floor below them. A cloak was wrapped firmly around her lithe form, covering the visible marks upon her body and the shredded remnants of her gown.

He felt a clash of emotions as he stared her; anger at his enemy, fear at the injury set upon her, and guilt of leaving her improperly guarded. Had Calaus not come in time to warn him of Creceden's intent, more damage would have likely been inflicted upon her. His reputation was well known and from today's occurance, it certainly preceeded him.

Creceden was a man deeply loathed by others of high stature, a warlord prince beneath his swine of a brother, King Rohan. He was a rogue much like Achilles himself was to Agamemnon, but far more greedy and bloodthirsty. His demeanor was dishonorable and to be truthful, a knife through his gullet was long overdue.

Creceden sought for neighboring lands and riches, to rape and pillage kingdoms of abundance and vulnerability. His threat of vengeance through his brother was quickly disregarded for few kingdoms of Greece would dare to attack Pthia. Achilles, even if war were to be declared by Rohan, would have allies of his own, one including his dear friend Odysseus.

"Eudorus," Achilles spoke hoarsely, his eyes locking onto his, "Will you take Briseis to your tent for the time being?"

Understanding lit his eyes and he nodded in silent compliance. "Yes, My Lord."

With utmost caution, Eudorus moved to lead the stunned woman outside, his arms around her as he glanced to his master in mutual agreement. Briseis need not see any more than she already had.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

_"Come here now, girl!" the man boomed loudly throughout the halls, his shouts making Briseis jump. _

_There wasn't any escape for her, for a tall, brawny guard watched her down the hall, a cunning smile curving onto his thick lips. His presence and size was foreboding and was there to make certain her journey to the intended room was indeed made._

_She ventured through the narrow hall in apprehensive fear, her muscles tensing with every step taken. Her eyes downcasted themselves toward her feet, wisking away from the obscene tapestries blanketing the walls, the colors of red and scenes of battle. They were tapestries only a cold-blooded murderer could appreciate._

_The hallway became gloomier, leading toward a dark chamber that reminded her as being the equivalent of a cave lair. The chamber of her slave master. _

_She hated and despised him with every fiber of her being... and feared him just the same..._

_'cruelty and pain.... cruelty and pain...'_

_Her feet moved of their own accord. She moved through the end of the bone-chilling hall and into the dark lair of a monster sqawned from humanity... __Hands shot out with rapid accuracy, rough and painful around her wrists, pulling her hard to a wall of muscle. "Let go of me!"_

_"Now I can see why I treasure you the most, my dear," came a familiar voice._

_Creceden!_

_"Stop! No!" She felt him move closer and push her to the ground, jerking her painfully to him to prevent movement. She shuddered in fear disgust as hands, filthy hands were upon her. "No! No!"_

_A voice suddenly broke, "Briseis!"_

_"Hector," she whispered, almost as a plea. Tears stung her eyes. No one else would dare come to her rescue... _

_"Briseis!"_

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Her lids fluttered open, a cry upon her lips, as she felt the soft caress of fingers through her hair. Without even thinking, a survival impulse, her hands flew from beneath her robes to above her, the tip of a dagger's blade pointed at her intruder.

Those haunting eyes of sapphire, captivating and passionate, stared down at her with a look of near surprise; but he had been quick. He instinctively caught her wrist in one fluid movement.

_'Achilles.'_

"It is only me," he spoke softly, his blue eyes warm with concern. "No one is going to hurt you."

Her vision slowly adjusted to the darkness, finding an attraction to the specks of blue in his eyes and the golden, plaited hair hovering above her. His face was etched with an expression of vacant, calm control. His eyes, however, told a different story.

Sighing heavily in relief, Briseis relaxed, her breathing slowly becoming normal again. It was then that she realized the knife still wielded within her grip. Only, her wrists were locked by his.

She smiled fleetingly.

The knife glinted in the moonlight as she lifted her hand, still locked in the constricted grip of Achilles. It hovered between their faces.

"I must have fell asleep holding this," she murmured lamely, "It was a precaution that I decided to take."

It had been only a day since the incident of Creceden's attack and so, Achilles neither blamed her nor pushed her for details. He was, however, fiercely protective of her.

He smiled wryly at the response, a little bemused. "I am here now and you are well protected, I promise you... Do... you even know how to use that properly?" He asked, gazing down at the dagger thoughtfully.

"Well," Briseis replied indignantly, "I must if I was attempting to stab _you_ with it in sleep. Besides, what is there to know other than the sharp end is suppose to go into the man attacking me?"

"Point taken," he agreed, amused as he remained holding her in place. "But you would have less difficulty in doing the deed if you had more skill."

Briseis smiled again, something that had for so long seemed foreign to her. "Is the great Achilles offering to teach me blade fighting?"

"If you wish. I'd rather not have another man attack you again."

His face turned grave and Briseis couldn't help but ask, "What Creceden had said... what of war?"

"His brother is a king, a dishonorable man as he is. Creceden's death, as his brother, would be a reason for him to wage war against my lands."

Her chocolate eyes, full of sorrow, gazed at her hands, the blade dropping to her feet. "I am sorry then," she whispered, remorse constricting her.

Achilles shook his head, his hand cupping her downcasted chin. "Do not be sorry for the inevitable," he chided softly, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. "He cares not for Creceden's death, only the chance to gain more land not already possessed by he and his brother."

She nodded in silent acceptance.

His eyes continued to stare intensely into hers, an unbated question held within them. "What were you dreaming about just now?" he asked in a gentle tone.

Her eyes flicked downward to her hands nervously. "I, um, I was dreaming about _him_... and where I used to be."

"Who's Hector?" He cut in, a little too quickly.

She tilted her head to the side curiously but decided to answer in truth. His eyes felt as if they were piercing her very soul.

"He's my cousin, but has always been more like a brother. He's always been there for me... but not anymore."

"Is he still living?"

"Yes," Briseis answered hesitantly, "but being marked as a slave... some families tend to disown what is theirs."

He hadn't renounced her but she refused to tell him the truth, else he would ransom her or return her to Troy where she would live a life of humiliation and containment.

He nodded solemnly, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face.

_'Affectionately?'_ She asked herself in silence.

Nay, he couldn't.

"Try and get some rest, Briseis. After tomorrow's politics is done, I want to teach you how to defend yourself. Eudorus will keep watch over you while I am gone."

_More to Come! Please Read and Review!_


	17. Chapter Fifteen: A Message

**Abduction of a Princess  
**By: Sheiado

**Author's Note**: Thank you all for your patience! Don't worry, I DEFINITELY haven't forgotten about this story LOL (My favorite one to write? Are you kidding me?! lmao). I have some great plans in store for this _:: evil grin ::_ Anyhoo, I just got the DVD (OMG! Woo hoo!) I'm driving my bf from watching it too much (anyone else have the case ofTroy syndrome? hehe). I'll either be writing the next chapter for this story or my _Immortal Knight_ fic (_King Arthur_) next... it depends on my writing mood (and those two stories I have _great_plans for...). So, without further ado... here is the next chappie so please read and review (I'll highly appreciate it!)...

**Chapter Fifteen**: A Message

The sun rose, rising above to break the sky and the serene moon that glistened and shimmered in beauty above the horizon of man's prosperous Earth. The island, once drawn with war and struggle, now raged into a peaceful, settling calm. The battles, the war, and all the bloodshed had finally died out.

Achilles departed as promised, attending to the discussion of political issues that would no doubt arise from the possession of land by King Agamemnon, the primary ruler of Greece. Briseis sat alone, in the tent of her new master, with Eudorous guarding the front flaps of the entrance, his old, piercing eyes gazing in vigilant precaution. He sat tense as the lady slumbered, his guarded stance unrelenting. They were the two most treasured by Achilles, the greatest warrior and Prince of Pthia, on the desolate island they occupied, now conquered by Grecian blood and combat.

Lazily her eyes had once blinked open, seeming as a glimpse to a hazy vision. Her gaze caught a blur of smooth motion, a clash of leather, flesh, and metal. The impulse of fear and danger vanished quickly. The presence of the other occupant quickly merged and melted upon her, giving way to the familiar feeling of protection and safety. It wouldn't harm her.

Unconsciously, she shifted atop the furs, her head lolling sleepily as the form stopped in brief hesitation to hover over her. "I will return soon, Briseis."

A warm, calloused hand caressed her cheek softly, almost lovingly. It was a whisper of a touch that propelled a searing shot of warmth through her, setting her numb limbs and body afire.

Then, as quick as it came, the touch disappeared. "Sleep," the smooth voice commanded, so softly that Briseis could do nothing but obey. Her eyes closed heavily, her vision swimming into darkness and into the depths of images and unknown senses.

The darkness began to take shapes within it, a vision of an unforeseen fate of another. Someone she knew. A vision of peril and horror…

* * *

Coldness stabbed through her body, a biting chill that sliced and gnawed at her raw legs as she skidded through the mounded sands beneath her feet. Her body, cold and pulsating, was bare, covered in cuts and bruises and concealed only by tattered rags of a gown. Adrenaline and fear consumed her, encouraging her forward as she ran on quivering legs. Her lungs burned as she rasped for breath, her world spinning out of control as her head swam from lack of air. Her hair, curls of brown, were knotted, and caked with blood dried by the day's hot, scorching sun. 

The rocks, water, and trees were a blur around her, nothing but a ball of motion as she swayed and trudged wearily through the dry sands of Agamemnon's island. Yelping as her feet tripped, Briseis caught herself_. 'Keep moving'_, a voice rang into her head, _'Don't stop, just keep moving…'_

Her heart roared wildly in her ears, stirring her blood and encouraging her onward. _'Keep moving…'_

She pushed herself upward from the scratchy sand, albeit clumsily, and continued to trudge farther from camp… _Agamemnon's camp_…

The reminder of it sparked a sheer sense of stark terror in her. It was terror. Utter terror…

She saw new images; they ran like pictures of a circular train, a train of never-ending memories. With the images, with each clip, she felt the emotions chip into her. She felt the full force of each sound, each picture, and every presence.

_She saw a blur of men…_

… _Felt dirty hands clamp themselves all over her body…_

… _Felt blood run across her skin…_

… _Heard the deadened screams escape from her dry, parched lips…_

Blood pumped in a frenzied rush through her ears and the only sound she could presently hear was the distinct sound of her heart racing, pounding rhythmically in protest against the flesh of her chest.

She saw herself standing in rags on the beach, standing in silence beneath the moonlight with her hair splaying in a dirty array of raven curls. Her mouth moved slowly, releasing a low hissed, _"Briseis."_

The eyes that she bore seemed not her own, they were wild and full of mysterious emotion that she could not fathom nor tap into. _"Briseis…!"_

The features shifted into a new guise, grey eyes and chestnut hair, and her face, seeming as a rippling glamour, morphed into more prominent features associated to the one she called 'friend'. It was then that Briseis understood.

Omen of danger. "Briseis…"

The knowledge and compulsive action to help awoke her, screaming the name of her messenger as her eyes snapped open and she bolted upright from the bedding. She gazed disoriented, her breath coming to short, heavy rasps, around the tent. Her heart raced and she could still feel the full force of the dream; the pain, the terror, the wounds, the loneliness…

Peeling the furs from her body, Briseis arose from bed, quickly moving to put on a decent chilton to wear before exiting through the flaps.

At her swift movement, Eudorous arose from his crouched position in front of the tent. "My Lady?"

"I need you to accompany me down river," she spoke quietly, withholding the urgency in her voice. She knew where her friend was. She felt it. She would hide near the riverbed because it was the only safe place to do so. It was the only place one could go without being fully sighted by a man.

Eudorous nodded compliantly. He knew that Briseis went to that specific area to bathe and one private quarter was reserved only for Achilles. "Yes, My Lady."

Briseis smiled kindly to him. She was grateful to have someone that would follow her orders without question. She liked Achille's second-in-command. Their first meeting had been… well, odd and, if she hadn't been in the position that she had been in; she would've found it quite humorous. She had seen lessof him up until the attack Creceden had made on her while the camp had nearly been deserted. Afterwards, he was a frequent visitor and, more or less, a personal guard to her.

She did find it odd, however, that he addressed her as 'My Lady', when he knew full well her actual station. She was a slave now, nothing more than what she had once been, not too long ago in her life…

Continuing with her pretense, Briseis grabbed the usual items that she used before leaving. They walked far up river, Briseis watching wearily at the brush around them, before coming to her usual spot.

She feared informing him of her dream. Things she often saw did come true, alike to her cousin, the seer Cassandra. But she refused to make her keen sense of perception public. She didn't like to sound fanatical or foolish. And most men tended to be optimistic about the abilities of seers. She even feared informing Achilles himself…

After Eudorus left her, Briseis quickly began her search, walking and eyeing the brush around her. "Lalianes?!"

Walking along the riverbed, Briseis made her way through, and stopped when she finally found the very person she had been searching for. "Oh Gods…"

* * *

The search had been a difficult feat. But once found, however, Briseis had made very certain that her efforts toward her friend had gained a very positive outcome. 

They remained alone, together, as she attended the woman's wounds in Eudorous' tent; she noticed every cut, bruise, and burn that had embedded itself on the flesh of her once delicate, pale skin. Seeing it made tears swell up in her eyes, soulful eyes that drowned even the toughest and bravest of warriors. Eudorous stood watch outside, giving them full privacy. He, alike to Briseis, had been horrified at the sight of her body, battered and lifeless in the shallow waters of the river…it was a vision that would no doubt disturb anyone who gazed upon it.

"Lalianes?" Briseis called, hoping to awaken the woman that had bravely limped and crawled from the mob of men that had tried to break her, to the camp of the Myrmidons. She had gone in search of Briseis… instead, Briseis had found her.

She seemed almost as being near death; her skin was pale and smeared with heavy layers of dirt and blood, her hair was grimy and had a loss of it's once brilliance in color. All of her seemed dead, but hopefully, just hopefully, her spirit would not seem also.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," She whispered, her long, slender fingers gently smoothing out the woman's tangled, mussed hair. "… Just like Ctimene…"

"You can only do what is in your power," a familiar voice broke. Briseis sat in silence, unmoving even as the intruder stirred patiently behind her.

"She didn't have to follow me… because I didn't object; I left her to this fate."

A rough hand came to gently rest on her shoulder, a gesture of comfort that, even now, Briseis felt unworthy of. All of it had been her doing…_ my fault_… Droplets of tears leaked from her soulful, brown eyes as she gazed upon her battered friend and realized her failure.

At her bowed head, he replied softly, "It was a choice that she made for herself. Neither one of you knew what was to happen upon getting on this island. You are not at fault."

"It doesn't feel that way," she whispered, "I should've been in her place. She didn't need to go through this again…"

Achilles sat quietly at her side, his expression somber. "Neither of you should have had to experience what she did… Agamemnon and his miscreants are the lowly of all men, consumed with nothing but evil and greedy intention."

"She was innocent…"

"Aye, she is. And you are also. You can help her only as much as you can help yourself in the given circumstances."

She sat in silence, her eyes unmoving.

"Eudorous will care for her until she awakens, Briseis," Achilles spoke quietly, placing a calloused hand upon her petite shoulder. "Come with me?"

She was about to snap at him, wanting to stay and never leave. How could he even suggest that she leave Lalianes' side?!!! But one look into his serene, cobalt eyes, Briseis was deterred. She saw the emotion that he held under his calm demeanor, the worry and guilt that shined through his eyes. He wanted her to leave with him because he was worried about her, because he knew she felt nothing but pain and guilt sitting in front of her battered, unconscious body.

Tears glistened from her eyes and she nodded compliantly in silence. "Yes."

"She will be in good care until you return," he replied sincerely, his eyes intense and sorrowful, "This I promise you."

_More To Come! Please Read and Review!_


	18. Chapter Sixteen: Opposition

**Abduction of A Princess  
**By: Sheiado

**Author's Note I **: Yes, I know. You are probably thinking FINALLY! lol. Lately I've had trouble getting my ideas for this fic out into writing. I have not forgotten about this fic and have absolutely NO intention of abandoning it (it's my best piece yet, I think). So worry not! lol. Anyway, as this website does not allow NC-17 writings, I will be posting a more, ahem, adult version at the adult fanfiction website (I haven't written it yet but stay tuned if you're interested).

**Author's Note II **: I published the beginning to my fiction piece, "Titans to Mortality" at fictionpress so please do read and review. I have the summary and prologue up. The next chapter will be posted when I come back from Virginia next week (probably Tues.).

Thank you to those that have reviewed! Without you, I wouldn't have as much written out as I do and I probably would have given up already. So, thank you to everyone for your words of encouragment and praise. And please continue to do so!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**: Attraction and Opposition 

The sound of clinking metal rang out loudly in distant echo over the stillness of Achilles' tent, following in perfect rhythm with the limbs and blades that circled and swayed in defensive opposition. Bodies dodged and danced, shifting and swinging, as two sides fought over dominance.

Defense and offense shifted, moving from one side to another as sword hands and light blows were exchanged in rhythm of the dance that their agile bodies and footwork initiated. Their eyes locked, a clash of two serene colors that evoked more apprehension in the deciphered movements of either side; they were yin and yang, dark and light, opposites that completed a whole.

A twinkle of amusement lit the cerulean blue eyes of the aggressor. "Someone has taught you skill," he noted with astonished pleasure, side-stepping his opponent with ease as another blow came hurtling toward his direction.

"Yes," Briseis breathed, deflecting her opponent's next strike. "Long ago."

"That long?" Achilles questioned, his eyes displaying the clouded doubt that his face lacked in expression. "It would seem," he continued offhandedly, "that you can handle yourself quite efficiently with a sword. Perhaps, it wasn't too long ago?"

"I'm a quick learner," Briseis countered, a fleeting smile touching her lips.

"And was learning defensive skills your cousin's doing?"

"Aye."

In truth, it **_had_** been long ago since Briseis had last picked up a blade or shield in her small, dainty hands. She had neither fought nor sparred with anyone since she was presented to her Uncle's court as an available maiden. Hector, courtesy of another one of Paris' mischievous pranks gone wrong, had taught both her and Paris swordplay in result of the horrifying aftermath that occurred.

Paris had not really taken much to it, having far more interest in archery than in swordplay. Briseis, however, refused to be defenseless and learning had most certainly been an enlightening experience for her. She told herself that she would learn, but she assuredly had _no _intention of _ever_ mortally wounding or taking the life of another human being. She was far from being a warrior and bloodshed was most certainly something that she, without any reservation, absolutely detested.

Narrowly missing her opponent's strike, Briseis pivoted her body, twirling her blade easily downward with accuracy, as she sliced through the air in a low, graceful arc.

Achilles quirked an eyebrow, his face remaining neutral despite his ever-growing appreciation of her skill. She was quite good for a woman and his curiosity was most certainly piqued. Her cousin had to be a soldier, a skilled one, at that.

He smirked inwardly at how she had phrased her answer to his previous inquiry. _"What is there to know other than the sharp end is supposed to go into the other man attacking me?" _

She knew far more than she let on.

He was pleased, however, that this digression kept her thoughts clear and out of inner turmoil. It allowed her a small fraction of liberation, away from the pain and reality of earlier.

"You seem to be relentless in surprising me, Briseis," He amended, his eyes locking purposefully toward hers, "Are you tiring yet?"

Briseis, panting heavily, narrowed her eyes in stubborn defiance. "No."

An amused smile touched the far corners of his lips, his eyes almost mocking her as he advanced forward.

She reared back, startled, as he quickly lunged, narrowly missing her sword, to grasp her firmly against him. The sword, once clutched firmly between the crooks of her nimble fingers, fumbled out from within her grasp.

She inhaled sharply, feeling a sudden jolt of energy ripple and sear through every limb of her body upon contact. A blade found itself against her throat, hovering over her like a taunting enemy.

She closed her eyes, her body trembling, as a deep voice breathed heavily against her ear, "Do you surrender?"

Defiant and stubborn to the end, Briseis spoke in a faltering whisper, "And if I do not?"

She felt the arrogant smirk grace across his features, could practically picture it in her mind, as he grasped her firmly to him, the dagger still held in place under her chin. "Perhaps," he replied smoothly, "You will need a bit of convincing?"

The blade dropped and Briseis found herself being twirled around, her deep brown eyes clashing in startlement with his serene blue ones. The clear appearance of them, so bright and calm, left her mesmerized. They shined adoringly at her, something that left Briseis both incoherent and utterly speechless.

No one had ever looked at her so... and with such forceful emotion that it nearly took her breath away.

She knew that adoring gaze. It was one that Hector bestowed only upon his beloved wife, Andromache, and his son. Was it possible that the same warmth and affection, the same vivid emotions, were being reflected back at her presently? That the warrior at her side felt the same semblance of love toward her as Hector did toward Andromache?

_' Hector... '_

He would not come. And she, a princess of Troy, was no more.

This sobered her thoughts immensly, making her see from the haze of hope toward reality.

Shaking her head absently, Briseis broke the contact, no longer able to hold the deep, pentrating gaze above her. It was madness letting herself succumb toward this spell, this false trap of hope that she was setting herself up to fall into.

She was wishing for something outside her grasp, outside the cruel reality that she was relentlessly thrown into. She could not let herself fall... could not let herself go...

_'Cannot...'_

Who would she become were she to let herself be taken by heart and mind? Especially by one who could easily crush what she held. Her spirit, her fire and heart, were all that she had left of herself.

She tried to draw back, but the grasp, firm around her arms, prevented her from moving.

"Briseis...?"

But why _her...?_

And what in Apollo was this unquencheable fire that she felt coursing through her? Why was it only this man that made her feel it? Made her feel some semblance of being real and in touch with the world?

She felt a whirl of emotions being in the presence of this man, the one who now held her in his grasp with such tenderness. He cared for her. She felt a sense of relief and longing grip her, constricting her heart at the realization.

And herself?

Gazing intensely into his eyes, lost and enthralled, Briseis realized that she cared for him deeply. But... what was she to him?

A hand grazed her cheek softly and Briseis closed her eyes in brief contentment against the soothing touch. His voice brought her back to reality, whispering her name in an almost soft-spoken question.

Her eyes slowly opened, drawn to his gaze, as his lips lowered upon hers.

The searing energy engulfed her again, throwing all sense and reason out of the far corners of her mind, as she melted into his arms. A whimper escaped her throat, just as she felt herself being lifted effortlessly off her feet.

Their tongues duelled, battling for dominance just as their weapons once had, but this time... this time, the surrender would be much sweeter.

**Note:** I know this is short but I'll post more when I finish the next chappie! (I'm still tryin' to get back into writing this). Feedback is definitely appreciated (it will be a tremedous help, trust me lol!).


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